Okay, it's really a little thing but then sort of not, and I need to rant. You don't have to read it, if you don't want. But I sure need to write it. I did rant quite a bit to the Lord, while driving today. So if I rant to you guys, and Him maybe one more time I'll have it out of my system.
So, the good news. I'm no longer accustomed to being treated like the average run of the mill dog terd. The other news: So when I was treated like that today I wasn't prepared and quite out of practice. I got so flustered that I put my keys down in a mystery place and made myself late to start the travel part of my day, and then I was so deep in thought about it that I accidentally headed east instead of west and was too far east to have time to get to the western destination. Which actually strikes me as funny now, and would have then had I not been so angry and hurt and still in shock.
Okay, let the ranting begin. Long story short, I was prepping to head out on the road this morning when there was a knock at the door. I don't answer my door when I'm not expecting anyone for a number of reasons, one being that I work from home part of the day and I'd never get those tasks done if I answered every random knock and phone call. I was at the other end of the house when the knocking began. Generally, unexpected callers give up after a couple of knocks. Here on this planet I think we call that manners and respect of another persons boundaries and privacy. But on the planet the knocker is from apparently the protocol is to ignore all others and get one's own way at any cost. So when the knock got loud enough for it to seem their might be an emergency, I reluctantly broke my own rule and said hello through the door.
Back story: I live in a mobile home I own but I rent the lot.
It was the landlord. I told him I couldn't open the door because I was in the middle of getting ready for work and avoided saying "What kind of man knocks on a woman's door unannouced and expects her to be ready to be seen?" The life or death issue that precipitated the emergency knock was the life threatening issue of my lawn. You see the most hideous thing has happened. My lawn mower needs a part. When I was notified that the part was on backorder, I left the landlord a note at his door (I didn't realize I was supposed to knock loud enough to give him and anyone in a three mile radius a heart attack.) notifiying him that the mower needed repair, the part was ordered and would arrive shortly and I'd mow asap.
A gruesome three weeks has passed with no mowing. Horrifying yellow flowers now protrude from the unkempt green blades that make up my lawn. It is even possible that there are--may there be mercy on us all, cover your eyes if you must--crickets enjoying the shade of the grass. I know, it's really quite hideous. They are nearly a quarter of an inch in length. You can almost see them if you hold your magnifier at the proper angle, and at night they make that blood-chilling cricket song, historically hated by all who hear it, and it is rumored that if one should listen for too long, he will emerge a werewolf, but the most shamed of this breed, as when he opens his mouth to howl, the only sound uttered is, yes, a cricket chirp. All the other werewolves laugh and call him names, and he is never allowed to play in werewolf games. The neighborhood is in complete peril. And the world itself is covered in a shroud of gloom, because my lawn was not mowed on schedule.
Okay, so he (the landlord, not the werewolf) tells me the lawn needs to be mowed
. But I think I'm on top of things because I called just yesterday to see if the company could give me an arrival date for the part. So I tell him it will be in on Friday, and I think we're all set. After all I've been though in my life, I still am shocked at how naive I can be. We aren't all set. He came over planning to chew me out. He's not letting my little plan to be efficient and on top of the situation rob him of this little treat. So he starts going on and on about how bad the place looks. Not sure if he thought he'd scrare the grass back down into it's roots or what, but I know the only thing to do is to agree and apologize. After all I've been though in my life, I still am shocked at how naive I can be. Now, I've done it! He'll get me for agreeing and apologizing and promising to get on it asap. So here it is. Here it is. The fightin' words: "And I don't think you're gonna have the garden after this year." Followed by the let's-see-just-how-mean-I-can-be words: "It looks like hell."
Okay, I'm a trained, certified, used-to-work-in-the-business gardener. There are a lot of things I don't do well, many that if I put my hand to one could justifiablly say they looked like hell and I'd whole heartedly agree. GARDENS ARE NOT ONE OF THEM!!!!!! This is where the shock comes in, a saving grace. I didn't say much more. He said a few more mean things to be sure he had sufficiently treated me like trailer trash and then stormed off. And I was admittedly rattle. Now having written it, it doesn't seem like much at all.
The mower part is due friday. While I was busy driving to the wrong location, I called and verified that again, cried over the possible loss of the gardens, and then got a little madder. The reason I rented this lot was specifically so I could have gardens. I got a little freaked, wondering what one does if she does not garden, but then remembered that I have some former co-workers who now have Christian counseling center. I put a garden in for them at their new location last year, and they don't have time to tend it, so it's not up to par. I actually could let even the veggie garden go, get my gardening fix in their garden and grow a few veggies indoors and trust God for the rest. So I think when I mow this weekend, that I'm going to mow down the flowers. It's not as sad as it sounds. I'm in the northest so Jack Frost would have eaten them in six weeks anyway, and then seriously consider dismantling the veggie garden next year. It's much more of a project than the flowers as it's a 260 sq. foot raised bed, that looks BE-autiful, btw.
And then there was dealing with him. Yup, though it may not sound it, I do forgive him. I don't think he owes me anything, don't want him to go to hell, realize this earth is all he has, so trying to make it look as much like heaven as possible is all he's got. I get it. I don't like. I'm still mad at it and him. But I get it.
And then there was here. This earth is not my home. I've got to stop trying to make it feel like home, and stop being shocked when it's not at all like heaven.
That's it, rant complete, at least for now. Wow you read all that. You must be a pretty cool person. Thanks for listening.
Blessings and prayers. And do please pray for my landlord. He isn't saved.
a
So, the good news. I'm no longer accustomed to being treated like the average run of the mill dog terd. The other news: So when I was treated like that today I wasn't prepared and quite out of practice. I got so flustered that I put my keys down in a mystery place and made myself late to start the travel part of my day, and then I was so deep in thought about it that I accidentally headed east instead of west and was too far east to have time to get to the western destination. Which actually strikes me as funny now, and would have then had I not been so angry and hurt and still in shock.
Okay, let the ranting begin. Long story short, I was prepping to head out on the road this morning when there was a knock at the door. I don't answer my door when I'm not expecting anyone for a number of reasons, one being that I work from home part of the day and I'd never get those tasks done if I answered every random knock and phone call. I was at the other end of the house when the knocking began. Generally, unexpected callers give up after a couple of knocks. Here on this planet I think we call that manners and respect of another persons boundaries and privacy. But on the planet the knocker is from apparently the protocol is to ignore all others and get one's own way at any cost. So when the knock got loud enough for it to seem their might be an emergency, I reluctantly broke my own rule and said hello through the door.
Back story: I live in a mobile home I own but I rent the lot.
It was the landlord. I told him I couldn't open the door because I was in the middle of getting ready for work and avoided saying "What kind of man knocks on a woman's door unannouced and expects her to be ready to be seen?" The life or death issue that precipitated the emergency knock was the life threatening issue of my lawn. You see the most hideous thing has happened. My lawn mower needs a part. When I was notified that the part was on backorder, I left the landlord a note at his door (I didn't realize I was supposed to knock loud enough to give him and anyone in a three mile radius a heart attack.) notifiying him that the mower needed repair, the part was ordered and would arrive shortly and I'd mow asap.
A gruesome three weeks has passed with no mowing. Horrifying yellow flowers now protrude from the unkempt green blades that make up my lawn. It is even possible that there are--may there be mercy on us all, cover your eyes if you must--crickets enjoying the shade of the grass. I know, it's really quite hideous. They are nearly a quarter of an inch in length. You can almost see them if you hold your magnifier at the proper angle, and at night they make that blood-chilling cricket song, historically hated by all who hear it, and it is rumored that if one should listen for too long, he will emerge a werewolf, but the most shamed of this breed, as when he opens his mouth to howl, the only sound uttered is, yes, a cricket chirp. All the other werewolves laugh and call him names, and he is never allowed to play in werewolf games. The neighborhood is in complete peril. And the world itself is covered in a shroud of gloom, because my lawn was not mowed on schedule.
Okay, so he (the landlord, not the werewolf) tells me the lawn needs to be mowed
. But I think I'm on top of things because I called just yesterday to see if the company could give me an arrival date for the part. So I tell him it will be in on Friday, and I think we're all set. After all I've been though in my life, I still am shocked at how naive I can be. We aren't all set. He came over planning to chew me out. He's not letting my little plan to be efficient and on top of the situation rob him of this little treat. So he starts going on and on about how bad the place looks. Not sure if he thought he'd scrare the grass back down into it's roots or what, but I know the only thing to do is to agree and apologize. After all I've been though in my life, I still am shocked at how naive I can be. Now, I've done it! He'll get me for agreeing and apologizing and promising to get on it asap. So here it is. Here it is. The fightin' words: "And I don't think you're gonna have the garden after this year." Followed by the let's-see-just-how-mean-I-can-be words: "It looks like hell."Okay, I'm a trained, certified, used-to-work-in-the-business gardener. There are a lot of things I don't do well, many that if I put my hand to one could justifiablly say they looked like hell and I'd whole heartedly agree. GARDENS ARE NOT ONE OF THEM!!!!!! This is where the shock comes in, a saving grace. I didn't say much more. He said a few more mean things to be sure he had sufficiently treated me like trailer trash and then stormed off. And I was admittedly rattle. Now having written it, it doesn't seem like much at all.
The mower part is due friday. While I was busy driving to the wrong location, I called and verified that again, cried over the possible loss of the gardens, and then got a little madder. The reason I rented this lot was specifically so I could have gardens. I got a little freaked, wondering what one does if she does not garden, but then remembered that I have some former co-workers who now have Christian counseling center. I put a garden in for them at their new location last year, and they don't have time to tend it, so it's not up to par. I actually could let even the veggie garden go, get my gardening fix in their garden and grow a few veggies indoors and trust God for the rest. So I think when I mow this weekend, that I'm going to mow down the flowers. It's not as sad as it sounds. I'm in the northest so Jack Frost would have eaten them in six weeks anyway, and then seriously consider dismantling the veggie garden next year. It's much more of a project than the flowers as it's a 260 sq. foot raised bed, that looks BE-autiful, btw.
And then there was dealing with him. Yup, though it may not sound it, I do forgive him. I don't think he owes me anything, don't want him to go to hell, realize this earth is all he has, so trying to make it look as much like heaven as possible is all he's got. I get it. I don't like. I'm still mad at it and him. But I get it.
And then there was here. This earth is not my home. I've got to stop trying to make it feel like home, and stop being shocked when it's not at all like heaven.
That's it, rant complete, at least for now. Wow you read all that. You must be a pretty cool person. Thanks for listening.
Blessings and prayers. And do please pray for my landlord. He isn't saved.
a
