Really need a break

It's been bad lately. Like, really bad. As in, why am I even fighting anymore, bad.

Hot on the tails of losing Ron, I had a doctor's appointment with a new endocrinologist. I had thyroid cancer when I was 17 which resulted in a total thyroidectomy. It also destroyed my parathyroids, so I take a lot of medication to stay alive. If that was the worst of it, it wouldn't be such a huge deal. Unfortunately, my body seems to be fighting me at every step of the way. For years my levels have been off, and playing around with my medication to try to fix it (without knowing what the problem actually is) has caused havoc. The problem is that I haven't been able to find a decent doctor who is willing to listen to me and to try to figure out what's going on. They just want the easy fix- which just makes things worse for me.

This new doctor is no different. The only difference is that she increased my medication so drastically that it really angered and upset me, and set me on a quest to find out for myself what the problem could be. I found out that it's very likely my pituitary gland is on overdrive (a common issue that's fairly easy to fix by all reports), but the endocrinologist is uninterested in exploring that option, and so is my GP. It feels like I'm fighting for my life against a well armed enemy with nothing but a bowl of jello and a teaspoon. It's exhausting.

I've also begun homeschooling my son, and had a sudden realization that either he has learned nothing in his years of school or is so beyond lazy that I'm not sure I can pull him out of it. "Using the map, what was the most recent area settled?" I don't understand the question. ACK! Maybe try? And every subject is the same. I hear "I dunno" and see more shrugs every day than Macy's in Fall. And every time I try to ask for help, I'm totally shot down. "It'll come," "There's nothing you can do," "You should probably rethink your curriculum," "No idea, have you seen this picture of a chicken?" Really not helpful or encouraging.

I attempted to make a new doll, a little shelf sitter. Total failure. I mean, total! I had to hand sew the whole thing because I have no idea where my sewing machine is after the move, and even if I did, I have nowhere to set it up; so it took me way too long to sew the pieces together. And it didn't work. I can't get the pieces to fit. Chalk up another disaster.

That's all I feel like at the moment: a disaster.

I can't get any of my big plans to work. I can't get any of my small plans to work. All around me, I watch people succeeding. Some of them have worked long and hard, others seem to get success without effort. Me? Failure. Every fucking time.

I'm so tired of this. I have no idea how to keep fighting. I don't know if it's even worth it. But I don't really know how to give up either. I've already lost everything I can give up without dying. I'm just so angry now I can't even think.

Sad Face

Last Saturday, as Steve and I were about to climb into the spa for some relaxation time, there was a tiny squeaking cry under the back porch. Steve crouched down and saw the little orange face peeping back at him.

Seriously, how could I not fall in love?

We'd seen a little grey tabby cat going under the house, and had suspected that there may be kittens, which is why we didn't block it up yet. However, we hadn't seen her for a while. The day before, we saw a fox running down the road, and there was a lot of excited yipping overnight, which usually means the foxes or coyotes have found food. The fear is that the mama cat was on the menu.

I crouch down and called to the little orange face until he finally got close enough to grab. We went to the neighbors, asking if they knew of anyone with a grey tabby- maybe she was locked inside and they didn't know about the kittens? But no. The only cat she knew that matched that description was a stray that no one could get close to. So we had a new kitten! A half starved and very hungry kitten.

It was late, and in our little town, nothing is open late. He'd have to last through the night. We went first thing the next morning and got him some formula. He turned out to be a very good eater! And he seemed to perk up. He started playing, and was putting on weight. On Sunday, he weighed 6 and 5/8 ounces. By Wednesday, he weighed 7 and 1/2 ounces. Things were looking good. We named him Ron Weasley, after the character in Harry Potter.

He needed a bath. He was so infested with fleas, I was afraid he'd be anemic. It was stressful for him, but he got lots of love and came through feeling better for having less bugs on him.

I ordered a pet play pen so that he could have a safe area out in the living room with us, and slowly introduce him to Asha, our cat. Toby, one of the dogs, already seemed smitten with him, and Zack was curious. He was living in our bath tub, using the cat carrier for his den. I was really looking forward to having him out in the lounge where we could enjoy his company all the time.

Turns out, kitty kisses are a bit painful, but so worth it!

Thursday, things started to turn. He seemed really sleepy and didn't play as much as he had been. Friday morning was worse. He didn't try to fight me when I cleaned him up after his morning feed- that he didn't eat much of. We gave him some water, and that seemed to perk him up a bit, but he wasn't really reacting to our voices. We ran to the store to pick up a baby gate so we could leave the bathroom door open and keep the dogs out. When we got home he was dead.

I cried so hard on Friday, I pulled a muscle in my throat. Everyone keeps telling me that I did everything I could, I did everything I could, but really, I'll never know for sure. Yes, he was far undersized- we estimated his age at 4-5 weeks, at which point kittens should weigh around a pound, he was less than half that size. But I really believed he would pull through. I thought there must be a reason I was given this opportunity. And maybe this is that reason, but in that case, it sucks!

How something so small wiggled his way into my heart so fast, I'll never know. He's left a hole there, one I'll treasure, even though right now it still hurts a lot. He was incredibly special, my little Toa- a brave warrior. I couldn't save him.

Pure evil has invaded

I used to believe that spiders were proof that evil exists in the world; that spiders themselves were the embodiment of pure evil.

I was so very wrong.

Spiders are, in fact, merely the over worked minions of their terrible overlords: scorpions!

The overlords of terror, pain, and death have set up shop on the farm, have attacked me twice in bed resulting in 3 stings (no one else, just me, figures), and are proving difficult to evict.

We took a trip to California the week before last to watch my step-daughter graduate and visit with family. The night after we got back, a scorpion viciously attacked me in bed while I was reading, and stung me on the arm just above my elbow. The next day we set off foggers to evict all things creepy crawly, and I felt a bit safer. But not for long.

A week later, I was sound asleep in bed when, once again, I was viciously set upon by the commanding officer of pain, Overlord of Terror, Ser Scorpion Sonabitchshit himself! It was CRAWLING ON ME! I still taste bile in the back of my throat when I think of it. And when I shooed it off of me, not knowing fully that I was actively TOUCHING evil incarnate being mostly asleep, it stung my hand! I then became vaguely aware of immense pain on my thigh- I have no idea when it stung me there, but man it was painful! An inch higher and I would've reported him to the cops!

The next day, another one in the hall that I barely missed stepping on. They're the same color as the wood floors, so it's pretty dangerous. I got some UV flash lights at Wal-Mart, so now before bed I search the room. It is literally littered with bodies of scorpions. Apparently the foggers killed the ones that were already in, laying in wait to attack me in bed one by one, but the line apparently stretched out the door, and they're still coming!

Someone please remind me why I thought moving to the country was a good idea. The poison has reached my brain and I can no longer think clearly.

Struggling Out of the Darkness

We are officially living at the farm! We're surrounded by boxes, bags, and chaos, still need to clean the rental, but we're here. And I'm fighting a wave of depression and hopelessness.

I know most of it is brought on from the sheer physical exhaustion of moving, as well as the mental exhaustion of not knowing where anything is. Part of it is looking around the house and realizing how much work needs to be done on this place. And another part of it is the huge life style change, that although I was expecting, I don't think I fully understood.

We've killed 3 scorpions in the house this week. No snakes, yet, but I really don't like the scorpions either. At least we found some window screens for the front windows so we were finally able to open a few extra windows and get some air flow! Summer is definitely upon us, and it is getting HOT!

Anyway, hopefully as we get some of the boxes cleared away and start getting organized I'll start to feel a little better. It would be great for the scorpions to stay outside, too!

Days go by

We are only days away from The Big Move. I'm stressed. This was supposed to be an easy move. Most of our belongings are supposed to be at the new house already. We're supposed to have renovated a bathroom so at least we can have a decent shower after the heavy lifting of The Big Move. We were supposed to buy heat pumps so that we won't over heat and die in the Texas summer while trying to figure out this new farm life thing. None of that has happened.

There's some stuff that's been shifted. Quite a bit I thought, until I looked around at what's left to move and then I realized that we have way too much stuff. How did that happen? We got rid of so much before tackling the international move, got rid of even more when we moved across the country, and then we were very careful about not buying anything, but we still wound up with too much stuff!

Instead of redoing a bathroom, we ended up spending our weekends mowing the grass and repairing fences. We can't afford the bathroom now anyway! So we're stuck trying to take a shower in a tiny tub or a dark cell with no light source, both with horrible water pressure, and a dodgy hot water cylinder that cuts out when it gets bored.

And, of course, if we can't afford to do the bathroom, you know that means we can't afford the heat pumps either. There are 3 window ac units that we haven't tried so we have no idea if they even work. The one thing we do know about them is that they give all the charming Texas insects easy access to inside the house. It also means that even if the weather is ok, we can't open the windows. This wasn't supposed to be an issue this late in the game.

So, I'm stressed, I'm hot, and I'm really starting to not feel very good at all. I just want this week to be over with.

Still here!

So, with the crazy weather over the weekend, I thought I'd take a moment to say that the storms went around both the farm and the rental- for the most part. Steve cleared out the cupboard under the stairs yesterday in preparation, but we didn't need it. I filled my Instagram account with videos of rain, and then of the local creeks higher than we've ever seen them. Not that that's very impressive, but they were also higher than anyone's ever seen them which is much more impressive.

Please keep Texas in your thoughts, though. There are a lot of people who have lost everything, lots of people missing, and a few have died. If you are able, please donate what you can. This website is a good place to start to find out what you can do. And if you're not in a position to donate right now, just keep us in your thoughts.

Sometimes anger is justified

I am angry.

I am angry because when we contacted Progressive Insurance three months ago to let them know that we were in the process of buying a farm and would need to alter our insurance, they said that would be fine. I’m angry that when we signed all the papers and money changed hands, Progressive Insurance told us that it was all set up, the property was insured, and payments for the insurance were lumped into the mortgage payment. I’m angry because the form I got in the mail on the 7^th of May came with a letter dated the 24^th of April saying that unless we signed and dated the form within 10 days, our policy would be cancelled. Ten days from the date on the letter or ten days from receipt? Mostly, though, I’m angry that it was that letter that led us to the knowledge that Progressive Insurance had every intention of cancelling our policy regardless of what we did, but they weren’t interested in giving us much notice and no way to appeal the decision.

They had several reasons why they were going to cancel the policy on the farm. One was that there is a metal building on the property that could “blow away.” It’s difficult to get a straight answer from them, but they seem to be referring to a corrugated metal equipment shed that has been on the property for a while and is very solid. They also hinted at a handrail that was missing. We were confused as the only stairs on the property that are high enough to require a handrail already have a hand rail! We eventually worked out that what they meant was the guardrail around the back deck, the one we informed them we would be replacing as soon as possible. Another reason was the tree branches that are over hanging the roof- the same ones that we informed them the entire tree would be removed shortly. All these reasons for questioning the policy, asking for clarification, I could respect that. But they didn’t ask for clarification, they threatened.

The most appalling reason for cancellation, though, is non-negotiable, ridiculous, and an absolutely mind boggling example of what is completely wrong with Progressive Insurance’s company. One of the out buildings they required to be torn down is a chicken coop. When we questioned why, their response was that if there is a chicken coop on the property, we may be tempted to have chickens. It’s a farm; of course we’re planning to have chickens. Progressive Insurance cannot insure a farm property that has farm animals. If we have a single chicken on the property, our policy is void. One of our reasons for moving out to the country was to have chickens!

I am angry that this is the system. I’m angry that Progressive’s response was, “You should get quotes from other agencies.” We took their advice, and are collecting a few other quotes. The interesting thing is that even the “expensive” companies are coming in very close in price to Progressive’s bargain.

I strongly urge anyone who has Progressive Insurance to start shopping for better insurance now, before they decide to cancel your policy for an illogical reason that they have no obligation to inform you of.

Question everything!