Office Hours

 Here I sit in one of my favorite office spaces otherwise known as the front porch. And I'm thinking about things like, "why can't I just find a comfortable position for this damn leg?!" "What makes me think things will get better soon or even not-so-soon?" "Maybe if I go inside and sit at the table.... " "then I'll miss the miracle (some people called this the sunrise)...." "I love this place." "damn cats" " I hate blogging about some of this shit" "It's called staying alive sweetheart" "you know it is cathartic as hell" "but never enough..."

...but never enough.

Story of my life. 

and the beat goes on. 

What if.... (jumping tracks again).... what if, we, collective we, everyone reading this, my Circles friends and facebook friends and my family or at least my family-of-friends, what if we all shopped local and supported each other this holiday season? What if we swapped goodies and inventories and helped each other succeed?

I have some friends with bees that I'd love to swap tiedye shirts for honey. I mean, how cool would that look at your booth?! Your yellow and black shirt? Add your own graphics and boom. uniform. I'd totally trade tiedye for honey.

I don't know. Or cards. I could swap some "bee...." cards for honey. or whatever. 

Lately things are pretty weird around here.  Apparently I missed an important deadline because there are no food stamps in my near future and I should have a notice saying that there are pending benefits. This sucks big time. Receiving food stamps is what keeps us afloat. But as some of you may know already, I suck at deadlines. Like big time suck. 

Suddenly I have been awake and unmedicated too long. The thing is, getting back to a certain level of comfort is uncomfortable. So now I grit my teeth and wait for meds to kick in. And over and over my brain says, "why? why does it hurt like this? why?" Which I want to shout at my brain, "Dummy! It's because you had major surgery!" "You are the one who didn't set alarms to take meds and opted to sleep all night instead of stay ahead of the pain...." "Why even ask why?" "choose Bud Dry" which I've never drank. I don't even know if it is still a thing and I don't think it became a thing until after I quit drinking. But their marketing works! I'm betting there is only a narrow band of boomers (am I a boomer? '68), that even know what I'm talking about here.... 

Jadyn says, "yeah, but we're making it..." Are we though?! We don't know if some kind soul will be paying our Evergy bill this month. Do we? Just because we've received a few gifts and were able to buy the basics like dog food and chicken feed and cat food and a coke at Kwik Shop, that doesn't mean we are making it. But on the other side of that, it does feel less tight, less dire. Thank you friends who have purchased cards or tiedye and thank you to those who have gifted and over-tipped. It makes a difference. It really does. 

Oh, weird little side note.... ALL our ducks are in molt. I was getting 2-3 dozen duck eggs a week and now I'm 0-1 a day. Yesterday the egg I got was gorgeous. I think maybe someone coming out of molt laid it. So maybe that last hold out that was still laying went into molt now because I still only got one egg. Duck eggs I see for $4/dozen. It's not a lot, but most of my friends give me $5/dozen anyway and 2 dozen eggs = $10. $10 is not nothing. I know because I have nothing. If you do not have nothing, if you have anything, $10 is sneezeable. If you do not have anything, $10 is something you can work with. Strange how that happens. 

So we have always had a little hobby farm goal in mind and I have about a million other ideas every day for this place. But we've talked about it in earnest lately and with the whole not driving thing for the Punky, we are figuring out what we want for the future. 

So homesteaders we are. What does that change? Not a lot on the surface. It changes everything in attitude. I now have an 18 year old business partner and a fledgling start up business. So as of now, everything falls under the umbrella of Hippie Chick Farm. Hippie Chick Creations... division of HCF. Tie Dye For.... HCF. Poultry? Dogs? Cats? HCF. HCF. HCF. 

Speaking of cats... we have some (five) that need new homes. There is nothing wrong with them! They are sweet pets and good hunters. They would easily potty train since they were potty trained once as kittens. Whether you need a barn cat or a house cat, I have you covered. 

Bandit! He is sooooo handsome. 

Tiger. Also commonly called.... Tigey-wigey. lol. He is super sweet.

I'm holding Sissy. I call her "lil sis". She has a special
in my heart. 

Tiger again. Cuz.... he's Tige. 

Here Sis is helping me with my field glasses. 
She's so helpful. lol.

The animals are ALL catching moles right now. I wonder just how many moles we have?! I see 2-3 new dead ones every day. I watched Rosie eat the head off of one this morning. I guess she things she's Ozzie?! She left that gift in mouse form for Jadyn the other day in the house. Thanks, but.... 

Anyway, this farm thing. Between J and I, we think we can make things work for us. But there's so much we want/need. Trying to find the things we can go ahead and start on while we are yet THIS BROKE, is difficult. I think we're going to make some chicken tractors for grass feeding. Sounds like a valid use of the windows are have at our disposal. And a small green house. The person I got the windows from said she had visions of a spectacular greenhouse she wanted to make with them. For realz. I could build a giant greenhouse with the number of windows we have!! I got them on the cheap because, well, because this is one of those people who loves me and wants good things for me, and I think I can make something out of them that other people will want/crave/rave about. I also think there are enough windows to craft, make the greenhouse of MY dreams, and make one or two decent size chicken tractors. There were 63 of these windows, and more than half of them are big. They are oh-so-cool, let me tell you. Or actually show you. I'll show a couple projects for house that I've used them for. 

Stairwell gates. I had already made the 
lower gate, and it keeps the dogs out of the 
attics. We had an extra cat here last week,
and we attempted to gate this off completely.
They can still squeeze through, but it is a cool
contraption. The window lock rotates around
a little piece of whatnot that I put on the wall to
secure the gate shut and you can turn it from either 
side, so it is functional and old school and just
plain coolio!

Here's the close up of it. I left a glass pane 
in the middle in order to paint it up really cool,
but put chicken wire in the other 2 panes so there'd
still be adequate airflow. I used screen door hinges
and the old handle is still on the window, so
a person can just grab it and swing it shut and 
latch it when needed. 

This is called "the gate in my doorway...." 
I can't have a closed door because of airflow. Heat and AC and whatnot. And it keeps the dogs out. Or in, whichever is appropriate at the time. It does nothing for the cats who jump it like it's not even there. 
But I can keep the pretty princess in my room at night and know she's not wandering the house and still point
a fan straight at my room and get some air.

Now.... thinking about John Q. Public and these treasures. Well, I don't really know him all that well. I know my quirky side and I have to assume (pardon my arrogance) that everyone thinks the things I design are cool and there will be a demand for them. But I like them not re-painted. Not modernized. Not decor-themed. They are authentic and raw and have a story to tell. So I'm creating a wall hanging and we'll see what other people think. Or will we? lol. sometimes I don't actually know if someone likes my stuff and I don't have a lot of friends who know the compliment sandwich rule, so I maybe can't hear some things at some times. So she shrugs her shoulders and goes.... "I dunno....."

And back to HCF. We want to make this a working farm that keeps us alive and afloat. Growing, breeding, selling, planting, harvesting. And there are two dreamers here now, so nothing can stop us. Except us. and well, we can do that very well. unfortunately. Last night the reality of how seriously without resources we are overshadowed the dreamers and they succumb to fear and depression. Was it a lack of proper nutrition? Maybe. Lack of sleep? maybe. 

OOo. OOo. side note. Kid thinks we are just going to magically get this revenue to cover this somehow. But she's miserable in her bed. beds. The full size mattress was a bust. So we got out the twin sized bed. And she is super uncomfortable. She is searching for the cheapest mattresses on walmart.com and thinking I am going to magically generate $100 in some sort of sales to cover this. This is sweet and naive and dreamy all at once. But it's that thing about.... $100 is not that much. But if you have nothing.... its out there a ways. Because next card sale we rake in buys dog food and cat food and I hope we get a tip so I can actually buy both of those things..... *sigh*

The goodness of others. I don't grow tired of it. I feel like *should* be somewhere else in my ability to pay back to self-sustain, but I'm not. I know God will take care of us and I know it will come through kind hearted people, some maybe even strangers. 

And I'm back around to grateful. I am SO grateful for.... 

• the high-quality people in our lives
• the magic of miracles
• the farm-stead we live on
• the animals we lucky enough to take care of 

I'm thanking my lucky stars for you today. You readers. You who pray. You who give of your time and resources. I am blessed beyond measure. Thank you.

Starting Over... and over. and over.

I thank my lucky stars for my life today. And everything in it. I can't stop the friggin' train though. It's rolling up to the station and it's picking up passengers, the crazy train. If I miss my call, no worries, these fuckers come around again. If you've ever ridden the crazy train, you already know it. It comes back around again. So if you miss your train, no worries. Oh. Let me clarify. I no longer live at the train station, and I don't ride the train nearly as often as I have before. But if I need it, I know it will be there. 

My kid, the one who's starting over. Ironically enough, he's starting over for the second time in two years. Last time a romance dissolved. And he lost everything. We still collectively grieve some of this stuff. LPs I gave him, she kept. This time it was not a romance. It was the unholy hell of squatter's rights. My kid's name is on the lease, but he has no safe way, legally or otherwise, to get control back of his apartment or to even safely remove the items we have fought so hard to restock in the last years. 

This makes me sad. And mad. and then I hear that whistle blow. 

Sometimes I feel like a hostage. Bound and gagged and thrown headlong into crazy with no resolve. Life happens. blah blah blah.

My child has been couch surfing for no less than 3 weeks. I can feel it. The ride. the leveling out. the tiny glimmer of hope. the drop, the hopelessness. the helplessness. the feeling of utter aloneness. Plunging deeper into the depths. I have been relying heavily on rock-n-roll to get me through. 

Said kiddo called me the other night crying to tell me that they were getting ready to take him for a mental health evaluation. And that there would probably be a 72 hour hold in his near future. And my sadness was overwhelming.

I've never really wished for normal-ness. I haven't had the desire to do this parenting gig the way other people do it, or to grow my own self up the way that others say to in order to heal and grow that damaged little soul that lives inside of me. When my baby was a baby, he cried. a lot. Colicky. I cried too. We walked, and I rocked and I sang and we cried. And when I'd sifted through all the songs that my daddy sang to me ("You Are My Sunshine," "Heavenly Sunshine," "Behold," "Jesus Loves Me," and all those songs), I started singing..... "don't you know that you are a shooting star, don't you know...." And well, it's our song. I hope my shooting star NEVER burns out. But if it does, I will never move on to loving the next person or thing. I will always love my kid. Just sayin'.... But you know, the whole shooting star thing got me off onto another tangent about how the world needs that one bright star, we need my kiddo's talent and beauty on this earth. 

Did I mention Rock-n-Roll therapy. You know, in the car, turn it up, loud. And then louder. So I'm jammin out and enjoying my drive and BAM! Bad company. And before I know it, I'm bawling. Thinking about my Shooting Star and how much I love my kids. and all that good jazz. 

That was last week Wednesday. I have been regularly boarding the emotional roller coaster train to crazy town since then. Cry. Stablize. Laugh. Sky dive deep into feelings. All that stuff.

I'm a little surprised I can form the words and thoughts at all. Did you know that trauma releases nasty hormones in the brain. And messes with short term memory. And crazy things, like words. duh. I feel more stupider just after typing that. 

My poor kid still needs some stuff. I'm including an updated slide..... 

We've made some progress on some clothing. We found pants, a few dresses, a few shirts, some socks and some things that people wear (or should wear anyway) under their other clothes. Kiddo had nothing. Came out here the other night with a brown bag, her pets and self. 

Putting this into the Universe almost certainly makes sure it will come to be....

I have become quite dependent on the kindness of other people. Not 100%, but approximately 2/3 of the financial needs we have monthly we are outside of our (my) ability to meet them. In the faith department, well, my faith in the goodness of the people I come in contact with, has grown at the least ten fold. So this makes me happy and I feel like emotionally I have grown to the point I no longer know how to address my old self. One of my children is completely like holding up a mirror to the soul of my younger self.... from all those years ago..... or, you know, like 5 years ago.  Or just yesterday. That self. 

It's the norm around here to not know where money to pay bills will come from and to be painfully aware that there's no such thing as "wiggle room" around here in regards to keeping afloat. I am NOT complaining about this, just waxing prose-etic about the world I currently live in (har-har... get it? poetic? only not. It's prose....) 

Earlier in the summer I had to rely on social media to spread the word about a need for moving some air in my house. And people were generous. New and gently used fans were donated lickety-split.  Yay!! And thank you. We used them. One of them we used to death. It died. Waaaaaa! And sadly, we need more of them. At the VERY least, we need to be able to replace that one that we've been limping along without for the past 6 weeks or so. We have discovered that life inside our walls is uncomfortable and inconvenient for the two people living here. But that when we have guests for the evening or guests for overnight, it is more than uncomfortable. Closer to unbearable. I keep imagining that I'll suddenly have the ability to just buy a couple more fans simply because we need them. This is a little bit funny. Why would we have the financial resources just because I was able to identify a need? I do not know. 

But if I humble myself and share my need, will my burden not be cut in half? Hasn't experience taught me that my worries are not nearly as heavy when I allow my friends and family to help should them? This is truer for my life now than ever before. I really am learning this. From the inside out. I was battling some of what I call "black energy" in my life last night and in regard to the needs we have that are neither insignificant nor hugely expensive, and there is a piece of me that knows that once I put it out in the universe that we need this stuff, the universe will bend heaven and earth to meet our needs. I also know that some will continue to see it as shameless begging or more likely shameful begging. Today I say, "I don't care, I am a humble soul, not a perfect one, and not an independent and prideful one...."

We need a few things and I am going to put them on a slide and insert them into this blog post. 

I was talking with the one who lives here with her mother.... and also to my sister, my soul sister, Sara Jane.... about the following.

I am on the verge. The edge. The cusp. of greatness. Of Artistic Greatness. And I really believe one day, one day before the current calendar year ends, I will be drowning in rewards of my labor and my artistic craftiness and creative genius. When I post, I can hear the arrogance. But alas, read it without bias and it does not seem nearly as arrogant. I am merely trying to speak into existence this feeling, this swelling, that I have in my heart. And you know what. Amen to that Mother Fucker. Amen to that. 

P.S. I have a child with nothing. Nada. Zip. Zipperrooney. Zippo. Nope. Nothing. Said child was put in a position to move out their situation and save their own life without anything. This kid needs clothes and shoes and snacks and wall decor and more.... 

Please assist. Large or small assistance, material donations, cash donations. It all means life to us right now and we are already soooooo grateful..... 

Miracles never cease....

 Today I received a payment for cards mailed to a friend. She had hinted at a little bit extra on the payment. I excitedly tore open the card. Let's be honest, who doesn't like to receive money?! But, I also love love love the whole card in the mail thing. I ripped that sucker open! I just started laughing out loud. And skipping. It doesn't cover the entire amount due on the ole Evergy bill, but it covers enough that I have hope to find donors for the rest! 

Receiving money in the mail for payment for cards = (american express... j/k, I'm just using their commercial).

Receiving a hefty dose of hope = priceless.

For every thing else, there's a wing and a prayer. 

Long awaited rain...

 The rustle of the wind in the trees

the breeze that picks up strength as it goes

the pitter-patter of the raindrops.

Dropping, dripping, plopping.... 

inserting hope into every plop, drop, drip.

A cool chill

settling like fog

impregnating the air

with the feeling of fall.

Snuggled under a blanket,

doggies and me,

enjoying the damp joyful cool,

full of promise and refreshing.

Coffee cup up

bringing morning bliss 

to my lips.

grateful.

The rain drops are full of promise. 

I am full of gratitude.

1000 pound phone

 I first heard of that 1000 (or 5000) pound phone when I was new to recovery and trying to learn to call a sponsor. But in more recent history it is more generalized-anxiety-disorder related. The thought of calling helping agencies is somehow the scariest thing in the universe. So. freakin'. scary. And the evergy bill is due the 14th. I haven't reached out to any agencies yet. That is called foolishness if you know how the whole thing works. Nothing ever happens as timely as you might think it should. So.... I just keep praying for a miracle of the proportion we received last month. Which somehow in my mind cheapens the whole thing. It's like expecting someone to bail me out because I didn't have the courage to heave that heavy-ass phone up to my head and make the calls to get some help. I hate it. The phone, that is a scary beast. That is in part why I always say, "don't call if it could be a text." for realz. You know the whole idea of "a meeting that could have been an email..." Yeah. don't call if you could put it in a text. I don't answer calls anyway. I have the thing where it "translates" your voicemail into a typed message. Okay, that can be entertaining to read, and some of the names it comes up with.... ha. But what I'm saying is I'm going to READ your message whether you leave a voicemail or whether you text me. Oops. I think I got off track again. I was going to talk about how I don't call. Oh yeah. I don't. If you're my kid, I probably ACTUALLY missed your call. But extended family.... sorry Mom. I watched it light up and waited and text you back saying something to the effect of "sorry I missed your call, what's up?"  

This is somewhat what that 1000-ish pound phone looked like early in recovery.

I'm days away from breaking my payment agreement with evergy. That should frighten me into begging from churches and agencies that help with this sort of thing. So far, I'm still finding the phone heavier than the heaviness of the fear of not getting that darn energy bill paid. 

By the 14th I need: $347.20 for evergy. Information in the slide....

By yesterday I needed $35 (Okay, it's like $39 after the fees and whatever) for the phone, and Punk's phone bill is due by next Friday, same deal. You have to message me and I'll give you the sign in details so you can access my straighttalk account. But you might be better off just buying a $35 card and then putting it on my account. My friend paid this bill ONE TIME, and her card keeps getting charged. It's aggravating.

And the doggone cats think they are hungry. I can't decide what to do about that. I gave them the cheap stuff this morning. We'll see how many diarrhea piles and puke piles are laying about by tomorrow morning.... sigh. Yesterday I made them scrambled eggs with cheese and tuna. Not good enough. They ate some of it. But my outdoor cats. They would have LOVED that breakfast! There would not be leftovers. In fact, I gave my indoor snob-cat rejects to the outdoor momma cat. 

Back to the phone. it's a legit phobia, fear, anxiety-thingy. Fear of talking on the phone. ugh. Ironically enough, even when churches or other organizations tell me no, they just say, "no." Or maybe, "no, I'm sorry, our funds are depleted." or something nice like that. Not a one of them has said, "no and I hate you." So what's the big deal?! Well, it's hard for one thing. humbling. And involves humility and an acknowledgement that I sincerely have NOTHING. So that is a valid part of it. Grrr. no fun. But no one said everything would be fun. Right? 

The whole Poor thing

 I find myself stumbling with my financial status. Because it is basically nil. I have no income. And as recently as two years ago, I had a respectable income. I am having a reality check though about the fact that I didn't even know I had a respectable income. And I have been going through a whole mess dealing with my life today.... 

I have a lot of causes. I'm trying to single out the one cause/problem/situation that identifies and sums up what I'm facing and the soap box I'm currently standing on. But it is a jumbled up mess of many different failings in the American systems of status, income, class, work ethic, and I usually sum it up with the phrase "poor shaming." But it is bigger that any little wording or phrase. It is a jumble of systems. The whole status of independence and class. If I could have a dollar for every time someone who didn't understand my situation said to me.... "but at least you are not relying on the government...." "doesn't it give you a sense of pride to know you are out from under the system?" (and so on....)

No. No it does not give me a sense of pride when I get a raise at my job but lose the amount of food stamps and childcare subsidies that equal the dollar amount of the raise. I didn't get ahead or gain anything after all. I didn't gain more time with my children, I didn't gain more financial freedom or less worry. When getting an exact trade off for my time and effort, I feel hopeless. I feel like the government that tells me that I need to be independent just took and hammer and beat down my pride for the extra time and effort I put in and that time and effort could have been put into raising my children or sleeping an extra hour and combatting the sleep deprivation that accompanies single parenthood. 

I often jump on the Poor Shaming box. It's big and I have a ladder. So I climb up on it. I've always been on this side of the tracks. Even when my adjusted gross income on tax forms said otherwise. You can take a poor girl out of the ghetto but you can't take the ghetto out of the girl. One thing about that is that poor people are generous. It's just money. And poor people (from my point of view.... I'm the only poor person whose head I have been in) spend money like they don't need it. And there are reasons for that. A couple reasons I have discovered in regard to my reckless spending habits are this: 1) spend it before it's gone, and 2) get the things you need because you've gone without for so long. These two reasons are inter-linked. But separate. My friends that haven't gone without feel free to comment about my spending. In particular, I'm thinking about my income tax refunds. The consensus seems to be that I should put the money in savings and spend it as needed. To be honest, I feel like this is laughable. I also feel like I already do that. Starting when the money runs out in the spring.... could be March, could be May, depending on when I received my return, how big it was, and how much it had to cover..... we start making an imaginary list for the next spring. Back pain that can't be overcome? Need a new mattress. Sorry, gotta wait for our return. Need major car repairs or a new vehicle? Gotta wait for the return. Need to update the wardrobe for work or networking or because of a change of sizing or just out of clothes that aren't threadbare? Wait. What about getting vet care for the animals? tax return. 

So I ask.... is it really reckless? or is it that we've been waiting and saving up needs? That we've already gone without? 

The part about spend it before it's gone.... it's a really weird concept. Because everyone knows that the faster you spend it the faster it's gone. And that is a truth. So I prioritize my needs. And quickly spend it. I have ($5000) and need a new heating system, lots of little maintenance and upkeep items and more. And I know that this money is going to sift through my fingers like fine sand. So I "hurry up" and spend it. Before it is gone. It's a weird and very deep thread. It's unexplainable to me. Knowing it is not the same as having power to change it. Arrrrrggggghhhh!! (that is pirate speak for things I should not put into print). 

So there is the basic self-sabotage that happens when one has learned to live without. Because there is this breaking point. And when you have a tax return coming, it helps keep the dam from breaking. 

But in the mean time, it doesn't stop the judgment. Judgment in the store because we have food stamps. Judgment because said ebt benefits should not be used to buy candy and soda. Because the tax-paying citizens of this country don't appreciate us living off their hard earned taxes and not taking care of our health. Judge away. The tangled web of poverty is subject to a lot of oppression through judgement and limits of spending and money. One of the things I hear when citizens don't know I'm on the other side of this line is.... "I don't care if those people get food stamps, but they should take better care of their bodies and use those benefits to buy healthy foods...." And these same ones think that we get too much money and that even though they want less government control on their spending they should be able to dictate what those who receive these benefits should be able to buy with them as well as how they should get out of the situation they are in. It's a vicious cycle of poor-shaming and class prejudice. Much of it is perceived and not based on fact. It's oppressive and runs the cycle by shaming the poor and crippling them mentally. Not to mention, this "healthy-living" they speak of, is expensive. But those of us who can't afford the movies or vacations or weekends away to rejuvenate, we use our food stamps to fund movie night, to keep our candy stash up to date, to buy two liters of Coke because we don't have cash to get that $.99 fountain drink in the afternoons. We use it to boost our mood, to keep from giving up. Because we know we are going to eat a lot of hotdogs and deli meat when we can't afford steak and whole foods. 

As you know, I'm on the long journey in the way of disability and SSI. It's devastating to the mind and spirit. The body is already decimated, so there's that. Yeehaw. We all know that this is a never-ending conversation and that my soapbox on the concept of Poor-shaming/broken system is a passionate hot-button of never-ending subject matter. 

Last month I had the privilege of blissful joy finding out that someone posted my entire energy bill and even left a credit toward this month. My heart felt light if only for a brief time. It was a precious gift. Thank you. 

Currently we are facing: evergy bill of $347.20; phone bills: straight talk (we use the $35/month plan); animal food (see slide). 

Any help is appreciated. Also, I am selling some things and that money so far has gone to put gas in a vehicle and keep our animals fed. Check out my cute greeting cards at $4/card or 4 cards/$15. I have farm fresh duck eggs for $4/dozen. And tiedye. If you want tiedye you can hit me up and I'll let you know what I already have in your size or you can prepay and I can dye something for you. 

A link to more of my creations

Here is the "ways to help" information.