Sunday, May 10, 2020
Corona in the Hood
Saturday, June 15, 2019
Macho Smacho
I can remember Nabal telling me that housework is women's work. So outdoor work would be men's? Boohoo, the lawnmower is too tall for me and I can't use it... Look I took all the weeds (with 2 years of neglect must are trees!) out of your garden. Every thing left standing was a weed! He'd managed to cut every actual plant down. (This had happened on more than one occasion.)
Women always have excuses. He'd thunder while I explained a thing.
His excuse for missing every weed? Well I didn't know. (Then don't cut anything without askingwhat to cut!)
His hurt reply: Every time I try to do something nice...you yell at me...
Infuriating!
If I work on the yard out front- I do succeed in shaming him into doing some work, without saying a word.
Today I'm working on a weed that's almost taller than our home. Carpenter ants are climbing it to our roof. It's shade has halved my day lilies, and horehound. Nabal today, sits under the tree in our front yard, with his host of other addicts and smokes crack.
The debris from a particularly large weed tree in the front yard that Nabal cut down 2 weeks ago? Still sits where it was felled. A few boughs from the cedar. (Where he and his addict friends sit.) Were added to the pile. Ugh, I'm gonna have to do what I did the last time to get him to haul it away- set it in their way, someplace they want to walk or sit. If I don't before long it will all kill the grass.
And how are you living with an addict? Oh yes, throw them out! Unless they're on the deed. (Funny thing the law won't allow that.) My deed to be exact. I've lost enough to this addict, I'm trying not to lose my house, my future vehicle of income.
Wednesday, June 12, 2019
Observation: Lasting Affects on Children
Once you realize who exactly you're married to, and once you get over the shock of what they've 'done' to you... You begin to see the little differences in your offspring. When you smart, funny kid doesn't excel in school, or sports, or their talent. They change friends, because Dad makes fun of all the nice kids.
Long talks about no longer 'covering' for ANY bad behavior in the family. They trust you, so they speak. Dad has been telling his son, since the child was very young, about his sexual exploits when single. Inappropriate conversations. How much fun going to jail is. Well, not fun, but memorable experiences for men. Nothing to be ashamed of. Paint yourself as a badass behind bars.
They hang out with the wrong crowd. Mama is uninitiated. She has lived the life in America and doesn't know about how 'people' really live. I try to reel them back, they lie like you.
The not it's caught doing vandalism. Lucky, a powerful businessman discovered him, and his hidden talents. No jail time, surly about community service. They businessman saved that boy. He toured Europe. Worked with men outside of the US who were also honorable, and law abiding. Valued education and character, instead of acts of machismo.
Fast forward the arrest ended up a misdemeanor, but can never be expunged... Never. Want to be something, join the military and serve- because you've become an honorable upright young man? Hmm, with the record, and some home tattoos from your youth. (Which your dad thought were great, because he got them with other troubled Hispanic boys.) All his military dreams dashed. They even found a technicality, didn't have to say something that could remotely seem discriminatory.
We had another long talk, that boy and I. This is why you raise your kids to do better than you. This is why you protect their innocence as long as possible. Please, raise your kids differently. Protect, love, and genuinely want to see them prosper. They are not your enemy.
The girl? People often wonder what she sees in her fiance. A pacifist. She'll go to bat before he ever will. I did have to think about it, then it hit me- he'll never hurt her.
O pray they'll get help, if they ever need it. I try to listen, but keep distance unless asked. I throw out suggestions- if asked. They're both miles away. Their dad never bothers them- he couldn't pay his phone, and now has a different number that he won't share. For his drug dealers and girlfriends only I guess. Honestly, I feel kinda free knowing he can't call. And that he won't bother them.
Now to plan the secret wedding of my daughter. The druggie doesn't like her fiance. Also with the trouble he tried to start at our son's wedding... Daughter girl is marrying into a military family. Military lifers still in the field. No one needs memories like that. My daughter and I both think of the cocaine fueled wedding scene from, 'Mom' the sitcom. We laugh, but it his close to home for us.
Monday, November 19, 2018
One step forward, two...
I don't know which way to move. Ugh, I need an advisor.
Crack cocaine has taken over Nabal's life. Yet I'm in a state where that's really not good enough for a divorce where I'd get my house back. But I could lose it because of his drug use...
I've worked my ass off and finally am clearing debt incurred with replacing my car, and appliance upkeep. Putting some away. I'll probably plunge back into debt this summer fixing up our trashed rental so it can be sold. Pay off his tax debt, then use the rest to divorce him. Somehow I don't see that as a happening smoothly.
He really is the luckiest man alive. For almost a year he's been driving his truck without any tags or inspection, insurance, and now suspended license. Luckily, I think he doesn't have money to go up to our rental. His crack buddies have been begging him to let them stay there- for free...! Thank God it's west of hell, and gas money isn't his priority.
Tuesday, February 13, 2018
Crack addicts are:
Crack addicts, more commonly known as crack heads are like roaches, or other such vermin. Once you see one- you know there are more lurking, and they'll multiply quickly. Once infested, they are hell to get rid of. Now how to exterminate them?! I swear I'd turn the electric off for a week if I could figure how that wouldn't completely destroy everything.
And here's f#$*ing nerve- just one day after I disconnected the internet (which hadn't worked in a while) Nabal asked how 'we' could get internet...His friends living in the garage also wanted to know! I told him, when they decided to purchase some- haven't heard about it since. Flat ass broke 5 months now... They're bumming cigs and beer. People are hounding them for $20 borrowed.
Friday, December 22, 2017
The Fall
The good news is that Nabal has stopped drinking completely. The bad news is that Nabal is now using crack. This fall is noticed he was home more than working. I leave at 10ish, it's hear his feet above hit the floor- no construction worker wakes at 10 for work. I billed a job for him a little over $10,000. Awaited it to catch up on bills. Never came... He was so out of it, he had to give/sub the rest of his job to one of his cohorts- the money went to them. I've realized all bills are on me- it'll be tight, but I can do it. Enter my vehicle, my money making vehicle that gets me to work. (I work a distance still to make better money.) 340,000 glorious Toyota miles! And the drivetrain is shot... I've sunk $1,000 into it since summer. Nope, can't wait, gotta get a new (to me) car- NOW. Alas it's been a good 12 years without a payment.
Back to Nabal. He's made a few thousand here and there- and spent it in a matter of a few days. He did buy some truck...for cash. (It's parked) Yet, he did not pay for his one truck, nor the insurance he's mandated to keep on his trucks- from his DUI. His 'paid for' truck has dead tags- he hasn't the money for either the tag renewal, nor yearly taxes. Plus he's got several tickets he's not addressed... Damn, it's done hit the fan. We are somewhere near rock bottom. God help me through this. And help him, and help him out of my life.
Wednesday, November 22, 2017
Another Day
The functional alcoholic has started into that swift decline. Most days I leave for work mid morning, and he's still hold up in his room. Today I got home around 4pm. Drunk and shirtless, Nabal was trying to cook. He could barely stand. His friends told me it was moon shine and a pill from someone with bipolar disorder, and they were happy- he wasn't smoking his cocaine... Yeah, bent spoons in his room, white powder all over the glass. He's not gotten paid for at least 2 months. I need to pick up more work. I need to get into the gym to get strong enough to pull more hours. He passed out, after falling down several times. He's now on his knees, passed out, torso on the sofa. He was so inebriated he was unintelligible. Except when he yelled how much he liked getting high.
Depressed doesn't begin to describe, because there's no time for depression. Buckle down and try to finish with something to leave the kids. Haha, at least I'll never have the luxury to say I'm too old for anything. I'll go, until I fall. Gonna be a bumpy rise.