Saturday, June 25, 2011

Half-Assed Weekend

People seem to be giving me shit for wanting my swamp cooler to work. I'm not really sure why. Okay, has it gotten to triple digits where I am, no. But that is not the point.

The point is this: at least half the work I do is outside. In the sun. Where it's hot. My house, even with the windows open and fans on isn't the coolest place in the world. Wednesday night, it wouldn't cool off for shit, and slept without my covers until like 4am, when it finally cooled off enough.

I'm sorry, but if I'm sweating while doing nothing then there is an issue. Watching a movie from my perch on the couch really isn't much of a workout in the evening.

So, while I understand it's not in the triple digits just yet where I am, that doesn't mean I'm not doing something in that 85 to 95 degree weather that's making me hot. Or my house, which gets the sun until early evening.

Let me bitch about it people, it's my right.  ;o)

Monday, June 20, 2011

Big fight...

I don't want to seem like I complain a lot about my family or anything, but I just had a shouting match for dessert and I need to get it off my chest. I want to start this by saying that I love my grandfather (the one I work for, PD), and I've been enjoying my time up here working with him.

During dinner this evening, we talked about delivering papers this week. I told him I could help him after work on Thursday afternoon and I could go with him all day on Friday. He then mentioned about having to go to one of the National Parks, which is on the route they gave me to do on weekends. I do my route over two days - which was their idea - so that I could visit with my family. I said something like, "Won't I be doing that on Sunday?" He was like, "Oh, okay." We go through this every month. He's done his routes his way for so long that he has a hard time remembering that I do that part of the route on my way to my parents.

After dinner, K (his wife), went out to feed her bottle calf. During that time, PD realized that if I'm delivering papers on Sunday then I won't be around to help him at his Cattlemen's deal. Which I completely spaced was this coming weekend, and he never asked me if I would help, he just assumed I would. We discussed it, and I told him it was simply a miscommunication between us, and I can tell my family I will see them next month when I deliver. He kept saying, "no, no". Anyway, the gist of this is that he was trying to guilt me into helping him.

Now, this Cattlemen's deal was something he took on against the wishes of K. She has flat out refused to help him, and has told him so for two months. Like I mentioned, he never actually asked me to help him. So, he tells me tonight that if I don't help him, he's screwed. Honestly, it's not my problem. But I didn't say that. So then he comes up with this screwball idea that I should drive down the mountain Saturday evening after work and come back on Sunday so that I don't miss work on the ranch on Monday.

I was kind of thrown for a loop in the anti-logic mobile. I pointed out that I would still be missing a day of ranch work if I was gone Saturday night. He then hollered that they wouldn't do much on Sunday because they'll be over at the fairgrounds for his deal. And that I'm missing days during the week because of my extra days at the Sticksville vet clinic. Yep, thrown for another loop in the anti-logic mobile.

Up to a point I was remaining pretty calm. I just didn't understand why he was suggesting such things because they really weren't making much sense. Around this time K came back in, and of course, was a wee bit confused as to why were fighting. She got the gist of it, and completely took my side. 

So there you have it, 3 adults shouting at each other. Well, it was more like two on one. I despise confrontations of all kinds. I kept trying to understand why he wanted me do go down the hill on Saturday and stay the night, yet not be upset that I'd miss a day on the ranch on Sunday when he'd be upset about me missing it on Monday. Honestly folks, feeding doesn't differ between the days, and the chores are all still the same. Suddenly he's all pissed that I take two days to do my route when it can take him one.

This is where I started to get really pissed off. First off, as I stated above, my route was given to me by them. They told me to do it two days, so that I could visit family. I stated as such to him this evening and he says that he hadn't be privy to that decision. Folks, he was sitting next to me at the dinner table when it was decided. I did not ask for my route, nor did I ask to take two days to do it. It was their decision. Notice I said "their", as in, it was a joint decision by both grandparents. Now, PD used to do that route in two days. Until his health got worse and he could no longer stay nights away from home. Then he altered his routes such so that he could do my route in one day (which is a 10 hour day if you do it in one day).

K hollered back at him that my route had been "the plan" for quite awhile, and that she's sorry if he forgot that he was a part of that (his memory isn't very good anymore). Then he shouts, "Then one or both of you need to help me!" K flat out told him that she had told him not to do this deal, that they didn't have time for it, and that she had been telling him for weeks that she refused to help out. And she threw in that he shouldn't have expected either one of us to help him. He then shouts, "Well, I just want to let you know that you both have really let me down!"

How the fuck have we let him down? K had been telling him she wouldn't help, and he hadn't forgotten that part. He somehow had it in his head that I had agreed to help him, and when I told him he hadn't asked me to do so, he then tried to guilt me into it - which, for the record, I did not appreciate. In his anger and/or forgetfulness, he throws out how angry he that I take two days to do my route and that I can just go down the mountain to visit family and he will do my route. Which makes no sense - if I'm going to be down there, why wouldn't I deliver papers as usual?

He then went to his office to sulk and be pissy. K walked me out to my car. She told me not to be upset, and that I will do my route as planned - that nothing has changed.

How can I not be upset? Above all else, I don't want to be a disappointment to my grandparents. I tried to remain calm and tried to understand why he wanted all these things changed and why he was suddenly upset about stuff. I felt like he criticizing me, that I can't do the route in one day, but he can. I didn't understand how missing Sunday ranch work was okay, but Monday wasn't - when the schedule and chores are all the same. I'm hoping all of this was just because he was angry over the whole thing about me not helping him at the deal. It's not my fault he didn't ask me or verify that I was to help him. I didn't even know when it was, let alone that I was helping.

I'm a bit concerned about tomorrow morning. It will be just me and him feeding while K is in Town. I don't want to fight anymore. I don't want this to become a wedge between us. I just don't understand where all his anger and disappointment came from.

Sunday, June 19, 2011


Most of you know why I haven't posted on this blog for awhile. If you don't know, my Granddad passed away two weeks ago. He was an amazing man. Oddly enough, he actually died three other times in 1949 - he was pronounced dead three times after a plane crash. He was told he would never walk again, yet he did. He chased after three kids with a wooden leg. He worked hard every day of his life. He refused Disability until my dad (his youngest kid) was through with college. He passed away on June 9, with all of his immediate family at his side - his wife of more than 65 years, his three children, a daughter-in-law (my mom), and his two grandchildren. He died on the eve of the anniversary of his plane crash - 62 years. More than 100 people showed up for his service on the 16th. He was loved, respected, and admired by so many people.

Now, all seriousness aside, I must discuss family. Not the mushy stuff of perfect families, because let's be real - they only exist in Hollywood. I love my family, don't get me wrong. But like every family, there are members that "a little goes a long way".

My dad's sister flew in from Georgia the day before the passing. She only flies out to visit every couple years. I love her dearly, and I know she didn't used to be this way, but the woman sucks the air out of a room. She's utterly depressing. And annoying. I understand that she suffers from headaches (it runs in the family), and fibromyalgia. But there's a line, and she crossed it a long time ago. She made a point of telling us how expensive her plane ticket was to get out here. (Really? You're going to make that an issue when your dad is dying?) At one point she changed from real clothes to a long t-shirt dress/pajama thing, making the statement, "Wow, I've never been in real clothes that long." (insert crickets) Her and her husband didn't offer to help do anything. I really do mean anything. My parents got food and drinks for the wake, had about $300 worth of gas between hospital and home, cleaned house for Granny and did her laundry and ironing, found enough tables and chairs to set around the house for the wake. Not to mention helping Granny with the mortuary and the minister. My aunt, uncle, and cousin did nothing. My cousin did a few random things, but really, they were of no help. They mostly sat and watched everyone else work.

My dad's sister-in-law, his brother's wife, was a bitch. No other way to say it. We all know she didn't much care for her husband's parents, especially Granddad. She got all pissy because she was wearing a really nice pair of greyish/black jeans but my dad and another uncle (from above paragraph) were wearing slacks and uncle was wearing a tie. Really? I saw people at the service in extremely casual attire. I saw people all fancied up. As long as you're not in pajama's these days, we don't really give a shit. One morning, she woke up at 4am and marched out to the living room - where Granny and my cousin were sleeping. (Granny sleeps in her recliner because her back hurts her less than if she sleeps in her bed anymore). My aunt turns on the light in the kitchen, loudly makes a pot of coffee and ruins her Weight Watchers diet by munching on a bag of brownies that were left over from the wake. When both my cousin and Granny sit up when the light wakes them up, she actually put her finger to her lip in the "ssshhhh let's be quiet" sign. And she got all upset when she was told by my dad's brother how early they'd be leaving to go home, because she wouldn't be able to do her TJ Maxx run. (shakes head)

My cousin . . . she's a sweetheart, but lives in a delusional world. Weirdly enough she talks more like a valley girl than a girl who was raised her whole life in Georgia. She's a smart cookie, but is clueless about reality. I was spoiled rotten as a kid, but she really has been spoiled rotten. Her parents are always referred to as Mommy and Daddy. Before you ask, she's 21. She kind of has the attitude that it really is all about her. Her parents give her money and pay her college tuition, and she herself does not have a job. She had one with her church as a greeter or something. When that ended, I asked if she'd be looking for another job soon, and she said, "It's not like I needed the job." Hmmmm.  In the real world, you can't put babysitting on your resume. Job recruiters like to see work history. She thinks it will all fall into her lap after grad school. Who knows, maybe it will; maybe she'll be one of those really lucky college grads. Now, I'm not jealous that I couldn't have that kind of life when I was in college, but it just irks me because I went to school with kids like that, and it just pissed me off. I worked hard and I'm proud of my job history and my employers have always liked what they saw. And in each case it was that previous job history that got me the job.

I adore my family, we are fairly close and I enjoy getting to see them. But a little goes a long way with some of them. I'm glad my aunt was able to fly in with enough time to say good-bye to her dad. I'm glad my cousin drove down after her last final of the term so she could say good-bye to our Granddad. I'm glad my uncle flew out for the funeral.

But sometimes, I just wonder where their heads are. Ya know?