Monday, July 27, 2009

Day 159: Clementine, Chapter 18

"Where are we going?" Violet moaned, as she dragged her feet.
"House hunting." I snapped.
"It's hot." she replied.

I spun around, "Go home, then! I'll go by myself!" I shouted at her. She cocked one eyebrow at me and screnched her big blue eyes.

I turned on my bare heel and stomped off. It was quiet, but after a couple minutes, I heard her feet plodding slowly after me. I was glad. I didn't really want to be alone. I really wanted her to come. But I didn't want to go home because my Mom would be there, and I didn't know if she knew where Rose was. I didn't want her to ask me. I didn't want to know what they'd been fighting about. And I didn't want her to tell me.

What we needed was a new house.

So I rushed down the wide streets of the trailer park and past the brick wall that was the entrance to Meadow Brook, with it's burned out lightbulbs and flowerbeds that were tangled with weeds and pansies gone to seed. I turned left and kept walking for a really long time.

Violet didn't say anything. She sucked on her fingers, savoring sticky remnants of Twinkie. I marched past neighborhoods that I knew well, looking for something new. I wound past the busy streets of town and up into streets I'd never visited before. These weren't subdivisions. These were neighborhoods. The streets were lined with arching trees. The homes were made of brick--some of it so old that it looked crumbly. Perennial flowers were established, here. Door knobs were worn with coming and going. Old houses. Beautiful old houses.

I never let myself come wander these streets. As much as I could dream about a ranch home over in Willowmere subdivision, I couldn't even let myself imagine living in a home with old wooden floors, polished banisters, and narrow stairways. Houses like this weren't for people like us.

But today? I felt like that was just what my family needed. Maybe if we could live in that house, over there--the one with the wide front porch, then Rose wouldn't have to sleep in a closet sized bedroom and she'd want to be home more. Maybe.

Violet walked next to me as I slowed down. I finally came to a stop standing in front of a yellow house. It had a sharply peaked roof, gracefully curving stairs, and a wide lawn stretching to the road. Violet looked up at it and nodded.

"This is a nice one." she said. I sat down on the curb in front of it. "Yeah" I said "It's really nice."

And for the first time in a long time, I started to cry.

Sunday, July 19, 2009

South Beach No Cholesterol Gluten Free Diet = Super Awesome-ness

Um. For those of you still checking in????


I know I've been a total slacker in the blogging department. It's just that the karma I've got going on right now? It's pretty amazing.

You all know about the broken toes.
I found out that I have celiac disease. (Thanks, Mom.)
And high cholesterol. (Thanks, Dad.)
I'm doing South Beach.
And I'm trying to decide if I should homeschool.

Let's just say that if I worked on Clementine right now, it would probably have a tragic ending, and no one wants that. *grin*

So--I have a goal to deal with my plethora of issues, and be back writing each day starting next week. I'm taking one more week off. Then I'm back, and I've got chapters stored up, so please come check in and let me know what you think!!

Sunday, July 12, 2009

Day 158: Clementine, Chapter 17

I almost tripped over one of the throw rugs.

I was thinking about 1,000 questions, I can tell you that much.

What was Rose doing, asleep on the Finley's couch? I didn't know she even knew the Finleys, really.

And suddenly I was furious.

My father had stayed up, waiting for her. He had sat in our uncomfortable chair in the front room, reading about Egypt. He had been worried. And she had been at the Finleys??? This didn't make any sense. My adolescent mind suddenly had the urge to pull her hair, run away, break something, eat something, and laugh all at the same time.

I followed Mrs. Finley dumbly into the little kitchen.

"Twinkie?" she asked, holding out a limp paper plate with Twinkie halves on it. I shook my head. Violet looked at my out of the corner of her eye as she took a Twinkie and placed it on the napkin Mrs. Finley offered. We all sat down at their kitchen table, a nice solid wood dining room set crammed into the tiny space. High backed chairs and velvet seat bottoms. I saw Violet sneak her pills and then take a bite of Twinkie. I honestly think I heard it crunch.

Mrs. Finley leaned forward conspiratorily "Rose is asleep in the front room, so we have to be quiet." I stared at her. Her eyes twinkled. "I don't want to wake her up, poor dear." My eyebrows raised. I think they disappeared into my hairline. I'm pretty sure.

Poor dear????
Selfish beast.

"What's she doing here anyway?" I asked, bluntly. Apparently I spoke too loudly, because Mrs. Finley looked at me sternly for a second and then opened her mouth to reply, but a voice came from the doorway, "None of your business."

Mrs. Finley's mouth smacked shut and she turned to Rose, who was standing in a pair of jeans and a rumpled tank top. Her hair was standing up in all directions and I could still see lines on her cheeks from a beaded throw pillow.

"Is so my business" I said, feeling bold, "Dad waited up for you all night. I had to sleep in their bed."
She rolled her eyes at me and turned to ask Mrs. Finley if she could hop in the shower.

At that moment, I felt like my sister was a complete stranger.

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Oh, for the love.

Two weeks?! Has it really been more than two weeks?! Good grief.

I was doing so well!
I was being so with it!

I was doing flylady and whipping my house into shape.
I was following my strict eating rules.
I was making my BED for crying out loud!

And then I slipped on my bathroom floor tile and jammed my foot into the edge of the door. And I didn't even swear.

I just hobbled out to the couch to inspect the damage, which--of course--was an open invitation for my two year old to come zooming over with nothing less than a tennis racquet to see what was wrong and he whacked my foot again. And I didn't even swear.

I gimped around for the rest of that day--managing to pull together Father's Day dinner, somehow. Trying to lavish The Spouse with the praise and attention he so richly deserves. Then the next day, a family birthday, I dragged my poor children to the urgent care to get my foot x-rayed. Yup. Broken. They handed me a massive blue shoe and a bottle of Lortab and wished me luck.

So I took my lovely blue shoe to Girl's Camp this last week, which required a lot of up and down, and popped Lortab to get through the nights with sweet twelve year olds needing one more story and one more tuck-in. I am a much nicer person on Lortab. I still notice the things that annoy me. They just don't annoy me.

Home from Girl's Camp. No naps to be had. And my bottle of painkillers is empty. So what else is going to happen but get a nasty flu? It's probably the swine flu. I wouldn't put it past me, I really wouldn't. And my HAIR IS FALLING OUT.

Out the window goes my clean house! Pass the chocolate! Drown me in chips and salsa!

Did I mention that I didn't even swear?????