More Ways to Count Time

I have a nearly full box of large trash bags. Will I be gone and in my new home before they run out? If I use just one bag a week, it'll take just under a year to use them up.

My deodorant stick still has a ways to go before I need to replace it. That should take about a few months.

And I just started my 40-fluid-ounce bottle of shampoo.

Ways of Counting Out Time While Hovering In a Holding Pattern

For the past several months, and inching closer and closer to the one-year mark, I have been in a holding pattern ~ a holding pattern that has not let up, let alone give the slightest inkling when the light at the end of the tunnel will appear.

In trying to find some comfort and reassurance, albeit on a superstitious level, I have taken to unusual and creative ways of counting out time with the hope that I will find myself in my new, hopefully permanent home, before I finished counting.

Because of the quick amount of time it takes to use up dog food, kitty litter, and Attila's piss pads, I do not use them as calendarial measuring devices. So, I cannot say that I will be in Texas before I run out of kitty litter because that is an impractically short amount of time.

So I have to use something that will take much longer to finish up.

I first started with a bottle of melatonin ~ 240 tablets, thus 120 days, worth ~ saying to myself that I will be in Texas before I finished the bottle. Well, that bottle was finished and pitched into the recycling bin a few nights ago, and yet I still have not inched one step closer to rejoining my family.

The next 2 methods of ticking off the days involve toilet paper and a tube of toothpaste.

I have 12 yet-to-be-used rolls of single-ply toilet paper with 1000 sheets to a roll. One roll lasts awhile, although I have not measured how long it takes for that roll to disappear.

Toothpaste takes longer to use up than toilet paper. I can make one tube of toothpaste easily last several months, especially since I am very frugal with its use.

Already the Tom's Cinnamon-Clove tube is nearly spent. The Crest Vivid White, which received a head start before Ariana left for Texas, lies waiting in queue.

I dare not think what I'll use to count time after the toilet paper and toothpaste have been spent [and sadly] replaced.

Well, there still is all the food that remains in the cupboard and fridge. Will my holding pattern continue after I am reduced to making soup out of the jars of condiments that remain?

In the meantime, a new development to the holding pattern has occurred.

Last week, Neil's boss told him that work has gotten slow, and as a result he does not know how much longer he'll be able to keep Neil's position. In fact, the company had to let go of its temporary workers.

Ouch.

As such, Neil has started his job search process last week, up-dating and up-loading his resume. Since he posted his resume on Friday, I suspect that the calls from head-hunters will start coming in tomorrow.

(The last time he posted his resume on Monster, he started getting calls from head-hunters all over the country within 24 hours.)

Whereas before I had my sights set on moving to Texas, who knows where those sights will be this time. And they could not only be anywhere in this country, they could also be anywhere in the world, especially seeing that Neil has applied for a senior mechanical engineer position in New Zealand, of all places.

The thing about holding patterns is that when it comes to aircraft, the length of time a plane can safely remain in a holding pattern is determined by the amount of fuel left in its reserves.

How do we ascertain the limits of how long a human can remain in a holding pattern? By counting how long it takes to use up 12 rolls of toilet paper and an already-started tube of toothpaste, perhaps?

Mam's Birthday

Today was our mother's birthday ~ 81 years!


I arrived at Mam's house just before 2:00 PM. Roma wasn't there yet.

One of the first things Mam wanted to do, after I gave her a home-made card and a small bouquet of picked flowers, was to show me her "farm" ~ her backyard.

Mam is passionate about gardening.

She's done a lot with her postage-stamp size garden.

And it shows with all the greenery around her.

Another noticeable feature in Mam's garden is the cats that she feeds. Almost all of them are very shy and skittish, but not this kitty. She was extremely friendly and affectionate, following us all around the garden and stepping on our toes.

She was also very pregnant and will probably have her kittens within a week.

Even though this kitty likes to dine in Mam's yard, I think that she may belong to someone else because her fur was very clean and neat.

The kitten on the far left and the black fluffy cat were more skittish, both of them bolting when we ventured too close.

Despite her shyness, the black fluffy cat was a very attractive cat.

Here is the kitten hiding under Mam's gooseberry bush.

You can get a better look at the kitten in this shot. Cute little bugger.

One of Mam's favorite plants is this rue plant with the yellow flowers. Rue is special to my mother because it is the national plant of Lithuania and it's a reminder of Mam's home land.

But of course, Mam's pride and joy are her roses. Isn't this a perfect bloom?

The white Valerian flowers accent this cluster of yellow roses beautifully.

And Mam's neighbors are in awe over the climbing red roses in front of her house.

After Roma arrived, we took Mam to the Atwood Grill in Johnston, Rhode Island.

They served great Italian food there.

Tony joined us there.

And so did Michael.

Even though we were there to celebrate Mam's birthday, I had my own private celebration in that once more I was liberated from having to subsist on rice and beans.

After stuffing our guts with all that fine Italian food, we had to have dessert. Mam was tickled pink when the restaurant staff brought out her chocolate hazelnut cake with a birthday candle in it. We all sang "Happy Birthday" to Mam.

I wonder what kind of wish Mam made when she blew out her candle.

Flowers

With the morning rain finally stopped and the sky struggling to break open, I decided to take a walk out back to take some pictures of the stand poppies behind the rhododendron.

The poppy patch was down to a quarter, or less, of its original size from last week. It's easy to forget about the poppy patch because it is out of sight. But with my pending ~ whenever that will be ~ move to Texas, I wanted to have a visual reminder of our poppy patch.

This poppy managed to brave through the morning rain that we had.

The poppy patch is behind this rhododendron bush.

The bees were buzzing all over the place, collecting nectar.

Even on a cloudy and dreary day, this flower presents a cheery, sunny face.

The salvia is lovely in the front embankment garden.

Daisies seem to be everyone's favorite.

There are still some blossoms left on the bleeding heart by the front porch.

I Get By With a Little Help From My Friends

In this case, it was Ariana's friends.

Today I was saved from the daily drudgery of rice and beans not once, but twice.

For starters, Ryan treated me to lunch at the Beverly Yacht Club.

"Order anything you like."

And I did. I ordered the Caesar salad, which I did not finish, and the Prosciutto di Parma and Provolone sandwich with wedgie steak fries, which I also did not finish. (Yay! Left-overs!)

Later on in the day, when I was on the computer, the door bell rang. There at the door was Ariana's and Ryan's hippy friend, Shannon, bearing foodie gifts.

Shannon works at How On Earth, which is a brief walk through our back field.

Because How On Earth is closed on Sundays and Mondays, the staff scheduled for Saturday closing gets to bring home boxes of food that will be expired by the time the store re-opens on the following week.

So Shannon brought me a delicious stuffed summer squash, a salad with a lemon-mustard vinaigrette, and a bag of sea salt and vinegar potato chips.

What a great day! Rice and beans never passed my lips today.

Kitty Play Date

The phone rang at 7:30 AM, waking me up. Normally I would have been awake, except I had a late night in trying to corral Emi ~ who has recently gotten into the escaping habit ~ at 11:30 at night. What a wicked little dog.

Anyhow, it was Ryan who was calling. Having been up all night and not wanting to go to bed, he was looking for something to do and wanted to know if I would like some company. And, could he bring his kitten over so that he could play with her sister?

Sure, come on over.

I heard that Blade was bigger than Callee, and I was interested in seeing him again.

Blade is a good travelling companion. He easily makes himself comfy and at home both in the car and on Ryan's shoulder.

Who are these big guys?

On second thought. . . .

Big Fat Stevie has to make his introductions as well.

Time to face off with Sis.

Notice the size difference between Blade and Callee, even though they are the same age. On Tuesday, Callee weighed in at 2.4 pounds. Blade has got to be easily over 3 pounds.

Nothing like a good tussle between brother and sister.

This play sparring is serious business.

Look, I need a breather.

Hey! Wait a minute! Where are you going? Don't tell me you've had enough.

Whew! Is the coast clear?

"Money Hungry" Vs. Obsession Over Money

Yesterday Ariana informed me that I was "money hungry" ~ that all I've been doing, lately, was talking about money ~ actually the lack of.

Ouch!

I bristled when I heard that comment. Any and all explanations about my concerns about being able to pay bills and our survival fell on deaf ears. I was unsuccessful in getting the point across, that being that while she moved to Texas, the bills stayed here. Out of sight out of mind.

After my emotions settled down, I meditated on the matter. And this blog is the result of my meditation.

When I thought about things in a more calm and rational manner I realized that Ariana was no different than when I was at that age. I thought the same way.

With dreams of love and romance dominating my wistful imagination, I could not understand why adults were SO obsessed with money. And they were obsessed. That was all they talked and thought about. I could not comprehend how people could be that shallow and ignorant.

Although I grew up poor, in the poorest of the poor family in the Lithuanian community on both of the continents that we lived, I could not grasp the realities with which my parents struggled because I saw that my own needs, and many of my desires, were met.

So even though I knew that we were poor, the full impact of that circumstance was lost on me because I was not the one who was engaged in the struggle to pay bills and put food on the table with just the meager pittance my father received every week.

Even though this was the day before PCs, iPods, and cell phones, I still had what all the other kids had ~ a passable stereo and a 10-speed bike which I bought with money saved up from my birthday and Christmas. My father chipped in for my 35-mm camera because he wanted me to enjoy the hobby that he enjoyed when he was a young man.

I suppose it was a good thing that I did grow up in the days before computers, iPods, and cell phone. Having come from a poor family, I probably would have been the only kid without them ~ items that are now considered to be non-negotiable essentials among today's youth.

It was only after living on my own, and later having a family of my own, that it dawned on me why my parents ~ and other adults ~ were so obsessed with money. My God! There were all those bills to pay ~ bills for necessities absolutely essential for survival. And very often there was not much left over for anything else.

As such, I became like my parents ~ obsessed over money because I was obsessed with my family's survival.

But still, there was some wisdom to be found in the perceptions of a 20-year-old.

While money, in our society, is critical to our survival and comfort, little good is accomplished by obsessing over it, or the lack of it. Obsessing over anything ~ even love ~ is not healthy.

Obsessing over a stressful situation ~ especially one that you have no control over ~ makes that situation all the more stressful. And we all know what constant, gnawing, and eroding stress does to the body and mind.

Obsession over something you cannot control is not going to change the situation. And it's disempowering, which causes additional stress. It would be better to focus on things that you can control, thus empowering yourself.

You can control how you react to your thoughts. You can control the attitude you assume. Not easy work, but it can be done.

You can also control your environment by keeping it tidy. You can control what you eat. You can control what you read and watch. You can control the activities and hobbies you engage in.

And you can control your perceptions about money and the decisions you make about its wise use.

So no, I am not the "money hungry gold-digger" that Ariana accused me of being. I merely got wrapped up in my obsession over money because of my deep concern over my family's and my personal survival.

If I were that "money hungry gold-digger", I would not have been making the sacrifices that I have been making.

I will buy food for my animals before I buy it for myself. I have not bought groceries for over a month, making myself eat beans and rice, and God knows what else, every day instead. No more going out to eat because "there's nothing in the house to eat." Believe me! If it's in a box, jar, bag, or can, I will find a way to turn it into something to eat.

I wear thrift shop clothes instead of the latest fashions. And even then, I will wear the same clothes until they get holes in them.

To conserve gas and avoid having to spend more money on it, I limit the number of times I drive. Now I am no longer doing the frequent day trips that we used to do because I don't have the pressing need to leave the house in order to address any boredom I may have.

The only lights I have on in the house are in the room that I'm sitting in. Let the rest of the house stay in darkness. (Now that Ariana's snakes are gone, I'll save even more money on the electric bill because there will be no more heat lamps staying on for 24/7.)

Rather than go on a vacation once or twice every year, I have gone on only one adult vacation in 27 years.

I don't think that any "money hungry gold-digger" would be content to make do with what she just has and make such personal sacrifices so that her family can get back onto its financial feet again.

And while Ariana did me a great service in giving me that wake-up call about the counter-productive and dysfunctional nature of my current obsession, she still did not know where I was coming from because she has not yet travelled down that road herself.

But her time will come, and perhaps a lot quicker than she expects. And with that she will learn the lessons that I have had to learn. I just pray that her lessons won't be as tough as mine were.

After all, it is every parent's dream that their child has a better life than they had.