Mini earthquakes...you know, those things that shake the foundation of your life. I have had the pleasure of being affected indirectly by them, because I *looking for wood to knock on* somehow manage to be the, though sometimes wobbly, steadfast pillar. But indirectly or not, they still shake my world.
Let's see. First it was Da Man's sudden unemployment. That really rocked the boat. But there was always unemployment to fall back on, and we're/I'm used to living below my means. *snort* His fateful trip to the unemployment office deemed him eligible to receive twentyfuckingnine dollars a week. And that's all I'm going to say about that.
Then there was the VA and their decision regarding his disability. That bit of dark and bitter tasting news was delivered to our doorstep yesterday. Fawkers. He read the letter and then I, hoping that he had misread the letter, took it from his hands. I sat there shaking my head back and forth as he paced up and down the sidewalk while talking to his Vet Center counselor. Fawkers. We're back to square one with the VA. But here's the thing:
I have had the feeling for a long time that Da Man was going to be some sort of instrument of change in regards to the VA and their (lack of) treatment of Iraq and Afghanistan vets. I don't know how to explain it, but I know he is. And I understand why my saying that isn't the comfort that he needs, but I feel it. And, as a side note, take it from me, if any of you know an Iraq or Afghanistan veteran who is or will be returning home, tell them to get to their nearest VA treatment facility center yesterday so they can start their long and tedious wade through the system. Seriously. Do that for them.
Aside from that, there is the fact that some sort of unspoken tension between me and my mother/my albatross. I am pretty sure it has to do with the Hostess Factory next door (aka Twinkies because they're a little soft in the brain).
The Twinkies are the biggest pain in my ass. I try to like them. I try to get along with them. I try not to roll my eyes every time there is any sort of interaction with them. But, alas, I fail. And Daddy Twinkie, Ding Dong, is the biggest arse of them all.
Ding Dong....He is the poor mouthin'est mug I have ever met. Do you know what  I mean by poor mouthin'est? Always trying to make you feel sorry for him because of what his poor ass doesn't have, that's what that means. And my yard is his eye candy.
"Let me have one of those clumps of grass." "Let me have one of those flowers." "I need some of your fish for my pond." He's fucking insufferable, that one. But he aggravates me just enough and everyone here makes me feel like a stone hearted bitch to the point of me saying, "Go ahead, ass, and take one." Or, most times, "Now shut up," as I'm tossing whatever piece of fauna he is slobbering over across the fence at him.
Yuck. He truly does disgust me. So far this summer he has aggravated me out of two clumps of ornamental grass, an iris, daisies, a vine, some ivy, and some stones. But the fish out of my pond? Not an option.
See, there has been a pond in our yard for more years than there have been children in our  yard. Last summer I had another one given to me and me, trying to keep peace with mom and the Twinkies, gave it to Ding Dong. He dug the hole, filled the pond, used an old toilet as a fountain (yes, you read that right), put a couple of fish in it, and then was done. A month or so ago I traded him a round water garden rub for the pond back.
Mama Mullet, the Queen of the Twinkies, told me the other day that he had to have a pond because "Daisy has one." What the fuck. So he dug a hole, bought a $3.00 roll of plastic from the dollar store, filled it with water, and called it a pond. Now, because we have high-end solar lights around the pond (my Mother's Day splurge, so don't look at me like that), he added strands of white Christmas lights to his. And, because mine still looked a tad *clearing my throat*, he went ahead and added colored Christmas lights to his too.
I have 11 pond fish. He has twenty. And a blue gill. And a koi. Because I have three bullfrog tadpoles he five. Because I have a store bought waterfall, he has one made of rocks that I went to the creek and dug up and was poor mouthed out of.
Last night he came home with a palm tree that is over six feet high. He was jumping up and down with excitement. When asked by him what I thought of that, I just said, "Yep, that's a tree." When asked if I wanted one, I said, "Um...no."
There seems to be a constant battle between us. The other day Da Man intervened and saved my alabaster garden fairies from being taken to his shack and painted. He thought they would be much prettier that way. My mom was just about to hand them over the fence to him when Da Man intervened. I would have freaked out on so many different levels had he taken my fairies and painted them.
But see, now it's almost a sadistic game for me. I read about a worm farm the other day that is used to turn your food trash into compost. I told Da Man that I am thinking of buying one because Ding Dong would have to have one too. And I can just imagine the fun I would have sitting on my porch and watching him construct the ultimate worm mansion. Ha. It's making me laugh out loud right now.
And there are other things. Like the fact that I buy new things for a buck just because I'm beginning to gain pleasure from the look in his eyes when he sees that I've added something to my yard that he can't possibly have. It's sadistic, maybe facetious. But Twinkies have never been my favorite snack cake.
And, although I would love to ramble on and on about those residing next door, I can't because I have to serve lunch and then ride the bus. Two more bus aide days and then the summer is officially here. Crazy how quickly that's been.
Happy Humpday!