I have not blogged much...

 

 

 

I have not blogged much. I'm depressed and feel pressed down by all the crap surrounding me. We need to donate it, or use it, or throw it away if it's broken. But holy shit! My mother was sort of a hoarder, filling her last home in Colorado and her new home here with angels and Jesus picture and statues, and crosses. Want to perform an exorcism? Throw the possessed kid in the foyer and lock the door. "The power of Christ compels you... to dust every fucking angel statue in this room."

Oh God, I awoke something long forgotten.

My babysitter wanted to see this movie. She snuck me past the drive-in theater gate. I laughed my ass off. But those priests! I decided I wanted to be a priest when I grew up. Imagine my pain when told I needed a scrotum

Back on topic.

Our house was never cluttered when I was a kid. Everything was properly housed in a cabinet. One for all the silver. One for all the dishes and glasses. One for trinkets. One tall cabinet to house more trinkets. I knew the contents like the back of my hand.

All the new things feel wrong. She took dad's hard earned money and bought and bought and bought. This shit usually was cheap, from a dollar store, and holds no value. When moved in with us, she complained that she had nowhere to put her stuff. The Fiend and I had cleared out the basement and most of the first floor to accommodate the things that I knew she treasured. She decided to buy a house and empty out the space she rented for all her things. TONS of things, none of them sentimental. Dad's things were little by comparison. It was some time later that I asked her to put the cheesy, worthless crap into a cabinet. Nope. How about donating it? Nope. EVERYTHING had value to her.

I don't hate my mother. I loved her. I still love her. But I'm stuck with all this shit. As I wrote earlier, I'm depressed and feel pressed down by all the crap surrounding me. Should I bring in a professional to tell me how much things are worth? I'd gladly sell many things at auction.

Much of my depression revolves around the lack of offspring. I don't have sons or daughters to take on the lineage, like my grandparents' wedding portrait. Now I'll have to track down cousins Danny and Mike. Maybe their kids would like this heirloom? My cousin Teresa is in the same boat I am. 

Hmm...adopt? Never would happen. We're too old to be parents. Foster? We've taken the foster parent class twice. It scared me away from being a foster mom - "Some kids are aggressive and could hurt or kill your pets. Yeah? Some kids would never be found if they hurt or killed my dogs. The would never let us foster to adopt. Jeff is too old. I'll be too old in two years.

OH MY GO! July marks 30 years of marriage!

MUST GET THE DOWNSTAIRS DONE. MUST GET DINING ROOM SORTED SO WE CAN HAVE A ROMANTIC MEAL (from our favorite restaurant in Empire. It's just north of us.)