A peaceful morning

It is another Monday. It is another week full of promise and other stuff. My son is sleeping as I do some phone interviews, plan my week and eat. After my usual bowl of Rice Krispies, I decided to make myself some creamy chicken rice. It hits the spot on a rainy day. The air conditioning ran all night so the house has a little chill to it.

I took a look around my room, which is a combination of me and JJ. Here a picture of his favorite comic book heroes that hangs on my closet door. Every time I look at this poster, I think of my son and his very active imagination. He reminds me of a younger me who loved to make up stories and friends. I am glad he got this from me. The other picture is JJ helping me with the housework. He loves to vacuum.

A new week means a new list of job prospects. I saw an ad needing a residential assistant for an adult group home. I am going to apply. My Uncle Junior was developmentally delayed. He couldn’t talk or read but we managed to communicate well. I never saw him as an embarrassment like some members of my family did. I knew it was hard for my grandmother to instutionalized him when he was 17. She said she always felt like she failed him. There was nothing she could have done. She had 12 other children and at 17, he was too much for her to handle. Growing up, we visited him several times a year and he would come for home visits two weeks out of the year. He could dress himself and feed himself but he couldn’t talk. I always saved magazines for him. And would try to read stories to him. Both Uncle Junior and my grandmother talked me an early lesson in compassion and love for others. In his later years, after my grandmother’s death, he was moved to a group home. I didn’t get to see him as much as I should have. I think he was happy there with his magazines.

This week, I am having a physical done and seeing a dentist for the first time in a looooong time. It is going to be a very interesting week. Plus, this weekend is the Watermelon Festival. For years, I have avoided this festival and now I might be covering it. I could probably get two stories out of it. This means money but I don’t want to cover the event because there are so many people I will come in contact with that know my hubby or his family. There will be questions and I don’t know if I am up for the nosy people. My hubby and my in-laws (not my mother-in-law) are talkers. Talkers who have told most of the county about my ED. People don’t mention it when they talk to me but I can tell who knows and who doesn’t. Especially when I am in the grocery store and the way some people look at my cart. To say it pisses me off has done no good. But when my mother-in-law was diagnosed with lung cancer and my father-in-law blabbed to everyone, it help to illustrate the point of my issues are my issues. My hubby was upset with his dad for doing that to his mom. My comment was I know how she feels about her private issues being public talk. My hubby realized at that point how I felt. His excuse was that he needed to others about my ED. I told him I understood if it was one or two close friends or family. But you tell just about everyone that you come in contact with. I think now he will think before he speaks.

Yesterday, I covered a meeting of the Genealogical Society. The meeting spot was at one of the libraries in CCounty. A relative of my hubby’s saw me walking down the street to the building. She promptly called my hubby to tell him that she saw me. It is sad that I can’t even walk down the street without someone saying something. This is why I don’t want to do the festival.


Daily Dose

1. Creamy chicken rice
2. Introducing my son to the original Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
3. My husband buying me a James Dean movie—Rebel Without A Cause. All I need is the movie, Giant, and my collection will be complete.