“Ya Never Know Where You’re Goin’ ‘Til You Get There!”

Did you ever see the old Sylvester the Cat cartoon, where he sings, “Ya never know where you’re ’til you get there”? Well, that was Dad and me yesterday.

We decided to go to our pre-pandemic favorite Mexican restaurant on Sunday, instead of Saturday. We got ready in a snap, prepped the house as we usually do when we leave: turned off lights, unplugged unnecessary items, etc. Then we ventured out, happy to be getting away from the same ol’ routine and four walls that we call home.

I drive because Dad prefers it that way. He says, “I could have a heart attack while I’m driving!” I always say in response, “I could have a heart attack while I’m driving too, Dad!” But, I digress. We’re a few miles down the road and Dad mentions taking the shortcut because last time it (the dirt road) was solid and not muddy, as we expected it to be after so much rain. So, I slowed down, signaled, and turned left onto the dirt road. We were nearly halfway to our destination when Dad asks me, “Isn’t this the way to West Plains?” We were supposed to be going to Mountain Home, AR which was entirely a different direction! “What the literal fuck!” I exclaimed. I don’t know what we were thinking…maybe we weren’t thinking at all! We had been talking and when he mentioned the shortcut, I took it. Ugh.

Thankfully, I knew how to get to the road we really needed to take from where we were. Our drive was long, but the weather was nice, our lunch was superb and we had a nice day. We drove at the very least 45 minutes out of our way. We took the scenic route, for sure! One of these days we’re going to be driving and not know where we’re going at all…until we get there!

The Ex-Files – An 80mph Show

Many moons ago, CP and I lived out in the country not too far from the town I grew up in. We were supposed to buy that house, owned by his uncle, but that’s another blog post.

We had been in town one evening, getting groceries. My grandmother was with us. She lived in the trailer behind the house. My daughter, just 2 at the time was strapped into her car seat, next to my grandmother in the back seat.

It was later in the evening, around 7pm or so. It was summer, so it was still light out. CP was driving. I always let him drive because he made me feel like a shitty driver, always nagging at me. I could pull into a parking lot and drive across an empty parking spot and he would be sure to tell me what could have happened had there been a car there. One time, being sick to death of his bullshit, I replied, “No shit. I wouldn’t have been able to drive over the spot if there had been a car there!” I mean, really? What the fuck? Another time, I made a left-hand turn and slightly clipped the right lane of the road I was turning onto. There were no cars on that road or anywhere else. CP had to tell me what would have happened if there had been a car there. I told him, “Do I really look so stupid that I would have turned like that if there HAD BEEN a car there?” But I digress. My point is that I let him drive because I didn’t want to hear his continual criticism.

So, we’re driving home that night after shopping in town. CP was driving normal speeds in town but when we hit the country roads he wasn’t going 55mph, the posted speed limit. He wasn’t going 45mph. He wasn’t even going 35mph! I was exhausted after grocery shopping, taking care of my daughter, the cleaning, the yard, cooking, laundry and every damn thing else and I just wanted to get home. I kept asking myself, Why the fuck is he going 25mph? I kept looking at the speedometer, thinking I was misreading it. I wasn’t. He was really going that slow. I was getting more and more freakin’ aggravated! I just wanted to get home, unload the groceries and put them away, bathe my daughter and get her to bed, finish folding laundry and putting it away…all without his help, of course. It was always ‘without his help.’ I asked CP, “Why are you going so slow?” His response was something about the nice summer drive in the country…yadda, yadda, yadda. I didn’t give a fuck about that at this point because I was tired and still had shit to do.

I told him, “That’s all good and a nice thought but I have a lot of things to do when we get home and I’m really tired.” Did he speed up? Nope. After what seemed like forever, I finally snapped and said, “Good God, you drive like an old lady!” I guess he didn’t like being criticized for his driving so what did he do? He hit the accelerator and kicked the speed up to 35…45…55…I thought to myself, it’s about damn time. But he didn’t stop at 55. His speed went up to 65, then 70. What a fucking crybaby, I thought. Then at his top speed, he was going 80mph, slowing only to make the required turns to get us home. I was gripping the door handle for dear life. My Granny’s eyes got huge and she was hanging on as well. My daughter, thankfully, had no clue. Thank God for seatbelts and car seats.

When we got home, I was pissed. I felt like cutting his fucking throat with a jagged knife. He was in one of his moods now, in his mind obviously my fault. He said absolutely nothing, most likely because he knew I had a fucking temper; he had seen it before. I quickly put all the fridge and freezer foods away, leaving the rest until later. CP was fumbling around the house and then got ready for bed. I got my daughter to bed, no bath. I was exhausted…emotionally and physically.

I wanted to lay into CP so badly, but I knew it was a fruitless effort because inevitably, it was always my fault. Even though I expressed nicely that I just wanted to get home because I was tired. He ignored what I wanted, as usual. I made a comment he didn’t like, so it was all my fault.

Eventually, we had a discussion…about a lot of things. His 80mph show of masculinity was not one of them. He wanted to talk about my 1962 Cougar, sitting idle on the property. It had sat idle for years; first at the house in town and now on the property at the country house. His uncle wanted to show the property but wanted the old cars removed.

The discussion turned to the fact that MY car had been sitting for 6 months while I was left without my own transportation. The car needed ONE part, for the carburetor I believe, and my grandmother paid for that. CP installed the part, after weeks of the car being out of order. Finally, I thought I would have my wheels back but…NO. CP wanted to fucking paint the parts under the hood so they wouldn’t rust!! Weeks and weeks pass, and now 6 months later I was still without wheels. I told him, “I think you like the fact that I’m stuck at home with no transportation. I think you like knowing that I can’t go anywhere without you taking me.” He said that wasn’t the case, but I knew better. He didn’t know that I was NOT home as he thought I was a couple times a week, thanks to friends and family. I’m thankful we didn’t have cell phones back then with GPS, because you bet your ass he would have been tracking me!

Honestly, thinking back about all the shit this man put me through, I’m surprised I didn’t eventually snap and cut his throat. I’m not a bad person, but I sure understand why women kill their husbands or boyfriends! A woman can only take so much! Emotional and mental abuse is just as bad if not worse than physical abuse. One time I told him, “Sometimes, I wish you’d just hit me because at least I then I could defend myself.” But he knew better than that…

Doctors and Chimps

It’s been raining off and on for several days, mostly ON. The furbabies are sick of the rain too, as they can’t (or won’t is more accurate) go out on the catio like they normally do. The roof keeps springing leaks; Dad thinks he has the problem solved and then it starts dripping again with the next rainfall, although in a different spot. We just can’t win. Last night, I needed my trusty earplugs in order to get any sleep at all. The blasted drip, drip, drip outside my bedroom window seemed much louder than it should have.

Monday started out with a little rain but not too bad. I had to take Dad to the doctor for his 6-month check up so I was happy to not have to drive in pouring rain. There were large puddles on the road, but that wasn’t a problem. We left a little earlier than normal to compensate for driving a bit slower.

Dad’s doctor used to work in 3 different clinics of the same medical group in the area but then she started seeing patients in just one clinic. Just our luck, it was the clinic furthest from us which is approx. 45 minutes away. So, off we went. When we got to the clinic, Dad went to check in and he was told that his doctor had retired last month. The girl at the desk said that all of Dr. Harper’s patients were called. I said, “No one called us!” Dad sure wasn’t going to speak up, so I did. “We had to drive 45 minutes to get here,” I said. She said, “I’m sorry. I don’t know how his appointment got missed.” I do. Incompetence. But ok. I know shit sometimes happens, so I let it go. Naturally, there were no appointments open for that day with another provider so we had to make another appointment. This time for Wednesday and with a nurse practitioner because they don’t have a doctor there as of yet. Dad needed his scripts renewed so he had no choice.

Tuesday, was my appointment to see my therapist. Dad likes to come along because we go have lunch afterward. My therapist moved her practice further away and there are more restaurant choices, so we make a big day of it. It was raining when we left the house and it never let up. It rained all day long. My knees were in bad shape. I could barely walk – it was worse than normal and I’m pretty sure it was because of the rain. What they say about arthritis and joint problems is true. The weather dictates how bad the pain is! We managed to get to my therapist’s office without any problems. She gave me some helpful suggestions for the sleep problems I’ve been having.

When we left her office it was STILL raining! We decided to not drive too much further and just had Mexican food at El Patron. Great food, clean place, and very nice people! Can’t ask for much more than that when eating out! Problem is, we nearly didn’t make it.

I was in the right-hand lane of the highway because I knew I would be turning right. When I saw the intersection and traffic light I started to slow down. There was a vehicle in the left-hand lane, who decided he was going to move into the right-hand lane. He was going much too fast considering the rain and large puddles on the roads. Visibility was low and obviously, he didn’t see me there, directly on his right. If I hadn’t been already slowing, and paying close attention, he would have slammed right into us! I’m sure it would have been a disaster, knocking us completely off the road. I can honestly say, that I am an excellent driver. I have had no accidents. I have received no tickets, parking or traffic. I am an extremely good driver. I am always on top of things. I am constantly watching and anticipating a stupid move by another driver. ALWAYS. I was on top of my game that day and avoided a catastrophe. I hope that guy (or woman) knows just how lucky they were that they didn’t cause an accident.

I swear, driving in the rain is like driving with chimpanzees.

(Although truthfully, I’m pretty sure chimps could do a better job driving than the morons I encounter on the road these days.)

When we finished our lunch, we headed home. Talk about tired. This was the third day of dealing with other people. Not my forte.

So, today I’ve decided I’m not doing a damn thing. Well, that’s a lie. I did the laundry I didn’t have a chance to do for 3 days. I made a pot of Stuffed Bell Pepper Soup, which is always delish and warms the innards on a cold and rainy day. I took a 2-hour nap and slept like a baby! I never even got out of my pajamas! It was a calm and peaceful day.

That’s my kind of day.


Dream a Little Dream of…..

Do you ever have strange dreams? Do you ever wonder where the heck that came from?

Oh boy. I have some strange dreams and I have mentioned a few in my blog. Usually, they make me laugh because they’re ridiculous as heck. I think the strangest dreams I have are those I have while napping in the middle of the day. I have no clue why.

Yesterday, I was a bit sleepy because I got up earlier than normal. So, I decided to take a nap. I fell asleep quickly…which is more than I can say for bedtime. It takes me hours to fall asleep at night. I don’t know why. While I napped, I dreamed that my kids were still small and my daughter had a little friend over. When the girl’s mother came to pick her up, she immediately went to my daughter’s room to get her child ready to go. The woman stopped to look at magazine photos on my daughter’s bedroom wall, of basketball players of all things. I don’t know why basketball players as my daughter was never into sports or sports figures. Anyway, the woman looked appalled and I immediately quipped, “Is there a problem?” The woman grabbed her child and said, “Let’s go!” As she went out the door, I hollered at the woman, “At least they weren’t holding their d*cks!” OMG. I have no idea where that came from because I have more class than that! But it was just a dream, so no big deal.

Next, it seemed like I went directly into another, non-related dream. I was driving a minivan, carrying 2 or 3 passengers in the back seats. I don’t even own a minivan, nor have I ever driven one. We were traveling on a 4-lane road, which was divided into 2 one-way sections. Where I should have been in one of the lanes on the right side, I was on the left….but I was going the correct direction. The road was quite busy, with very fast-paced traffic. All of a sudden, another vehicle came straight for me, with police cars on his tail. Sirens were screaming! But since the vehicle being chased was going in the opposite direction as everyone else, he was unable to move his way through. The traffic was too thick. (Not sure why there weren’t multiple car crashes, but it’s just a dream after all.) As the criminal tried to get away, I decided to be heroic and I wedged his vehicle between mine and the police cars. The man looked at me, got out of his car and started to point a gun at me! I yelled at everyone else in the vehicle to get down, and we all ducked down as quickly as we could. The police were able to stop the man from shooting at us, and before long a police officer was telling us to keep moving. I remember before I woke up thinking, “Where’s my thank you?? I helped you apprehend this guy, you ungrateful pigs!”

Not even 20 minutes later, I was watching the local news. There was a report of a minivan traveling on the wrong side of the highway and a crash resulted in the death of another driver. I got goosebumps all over my body. I had just dreamed that I was driving a minivan, but I wasn’t the one going the wrong direction, the other car was.

Where did this dream come from? Why was it so similar to the report on the news just a few minutes later?

Strange, very strange indeed.