September 18, 2004
Makoa on my hope chest, where I have the hopes and dreams of 30 years of journaling stored and not much else.
2pm I woke this morning to the hopeless dread of going into the store... The Hawaii County Fair is going and that is where everyone is that is visiting...Downtown has been deserted, the only business that we wrote this week was the pick up of a layaway. I spent the best part of the day on the phone working with my biggest supplier trying to gather up the remnants of the Israeli ancient glass and sterling line that is our best seller. We were the biggest buyer and we just didnt do enough to justify them carrying a huge selection, so they cut back and improved the few pieces that they do carry. We dont have the financial muscle to buy direct from Kibbutz Revadim, or I would go direct... I scooped up the rest of MMAs inventory and hopefully it will all sell over the holidays... Im just in a funk cause I spent what was left of my restock funds on one line... GRRRr. I am also scared as this is the bread and butter of the store and I have discovered nothing else that moves as well...I also love it so and the though of not having it upsets me...
So does everything else. I am concerned that I am having a breakdown. Im ok with that as this tends to be a way that God uses to reshape me and the results are always good but the enduring the "shaping" is a bummer. Imagine being a statue that is being sculpted, chiseled, picked at and the ever popular, sandblasted, ( I loathe that the most, its the tiny stuff that gets you...)
I woke up after the first full nights sleep I have had in a while and looked at our bedroom. I dont think its been more than swept and sheets changed in months maybe years... My bathroom was beyond the pale in disgusting...The whole house is a mess even the empty room that Woody dresses in, hes piled up clean clothes and books hes finished (for me to toss in the good will box...) I wondered out to the lanai and saw that Makoa, true to form as most males, cant quite hit the target, and subsequently the cat box is a disaster, I sprinkle litter on that and think, "Gee, maybe I will go to walmart and buy a baby wading pool for His Nibs that pees over the side...." Woody thinks its funny. But then his bathroom is so bad that I believe that Saddam has his bio WMDS parked in there... I hung a sign on the door saying "Hazardous Waste Disposal Area", and Woody said.."Gee, only when we eat at Ken's Pancake House.." missing the whole point that cleanliness is the issue.
Piles of mail, piles of newspapers, a pile of trash that needs a trash can rather than bags that the wild chickens and mongoose can tear into. Our trash can was stolen and we've just used bags since. You have to take your trash to the chute here no pick up... Woody is good about that, but then he goes there to work three days a week.
I looked and saw the neglect and said...." No not another day of sitting there surfing the net waiting for a body to come in that is not coming in. Saturday is our worst day traffic wise..( dont ask me I dont know why... This was true of the place that I worked at prior to opening Azure Seas as well.)But usually Mom and Dad Band People next door practice... I decided that I didn't care and I was staying home, I would be a wife for once... clean something, Prepare a meal for my itinerant husband and a flashy (for me box brownies with icing)desert. I would start with the "Master bathroom" LOL my bathroom, not the WMD zone.
Its taken me all day and I am nearly done with the bedroom, dusting, laundering and tossing out a lot of knicknacs that while have sentimental value to me are not suitable for the climate nor are they necessary for survival. I have cried all day over this but, I moved 12500lbs and 2275cft of cargo to this island (not counting three cars) and I wont be able to move that much back as we will be going twice as far. We have bought next to nothing since we arrived and are selling things off to keep our heads above water... This is ok and I feel good about it, but there have been moments...
Hair clips....The pretty pink one, The pearl one that I wore with my head peice at the wedding...sniff sniff .I cut my hair for sanitary reasons but being shaved (nearly) has only intensified the feelings of un femaleness, and unattractiveness that I feel, along with no makeup, (it sweats off, I am wet 90 percent of the time), no fragrances, as a bee sting could spell disaster, All got pitched.
Some of the bottles of perfume go back to other days, and the smells were enough to bring back memories of other much, much happier times. People, not just lovers but relationships, friends that gave me things... Only two bottles did I keep. One was a large bottle of Must de Cartier II
Given to me by Debbie Bloom in 1993 Its still good even after all this time. Its my last tie to a couple that meant more to me than blood...They introduced me to my husband and they gave me away at our wedding, I served them and served with them for seven years in ministry. I was there for them in all sorts of difficulty ... then they turned their backs on me when I needed them. Her husband was a friend of Woody's from grade school...they are still not speaking... It has been nearly 9 years since this fallout... I sprayed it into the air and I was transported to a church, a stage, a pool of light, a Gift that was life to me. Joy, belonging, a home like I had never had before, a place of my own... It vanished with a casual decision by a pastor that never understood me, and never trusted me... The Blooms chose to go with the groupthink rather than stand with me and for what was right, as I was pretty much run out of a church that I loved for no reason. A situation like this burns a hole in your soul that never heals and has not...
But I cannot casually toss that bottle into a trashbag.
The other was a nearly new bottle of Ivoire de Balmain
You will all laugh at this... I used this fragrance for years, the first bottle was a gift from my first husband and as it is not easy to come by I jumped at the chance to buy another on on Martinique while honeymooning with Hubby no 2. Woody has not a scentametal (yes bad I know but true) bone in his body and couldn't wait to buy it for me. It brought back the memories of our bittersweet honeymoon that was fraught with difficulty, and before that a hedonistic lifestyle with Jeff that was ecstasy and heartbreak all at the same time...How I miss that man. We have been apart now for 15 years, and it seems like yesterday...Spray... Again a whiff of another world, when I was younger, more beautiful and certainly less jaded and cynical than I am now...
I guess I grew up...
4pm I did the bath and the bedroom and picked up. God in Heaven its still a mess... ( Did I mention the brownies and 5 loads of wash) Its been heavenly peaceful here everyone is in Hilo for the fair. Yippee!
I am ADD I think I cannot seem to finish a room before I start on another one and as a result I never seem to get anything done. It ticks me off. I feel like I spin my wheels for nothing. So today I really tried to focus on the one space and while I didn't get everything done, The lion's share is and at least I dont smell mildew emanating from my bathroom. I have left the cat box for Woody...Birds of a feather piss together.
Last load of wash. I have wall to wall ceramic tile in the house and its great. But any little bit of lint shows I like this as I can see the dirt, but with two cats shedding constantly, if I go a few days without sweeping, the breeze blows in and little balls of cat fur blow around great fun for the kitties to chase... Some times we marvel at the shedding output..."Wow, look at this! We could build us a whole other cat and have some left over!," Woody exclaimed one Sunday afternoon as we were sweeping the livingroom. Brushing helps some but they just seem to grow more hair. Its all over everything and when its damp like its been the stuff sticks to every hard surface making for a gunky mess.
Then there are the tiny gnats that get into the house through the tiny mesh of the screens. The place is littered with tiny piles of bodies. We have had a millipede invasion. The cats wont touch them, unlike the dangerous centipedes that they see as game to hunt along with the Gecko and the Cameleons that sometimes get in. I must have found a dozen of the beasts. We have a weird thing that sticks to the walls... (For Gods sake, Woody cant we have a Pest control person???, or mow the lawn more so the chickens will eat the millipedes or something!) UGGH
Desert is cool Made box brownies and topped them with cream cheese with apricot pineapple jam and sugar mixed, then made a chocolate sauce to drizzle on top. Martha would be proud...
The saddest thing for me is that Woody will come home and not notice the changes in the bedroom, not care about the clean house or even the brownies... He doesn't give a rip about this house or anything it takes to take care of it. It still a mystery as to why he lied and asked me to marry him...
Maybe I need to do more house cleaning???