My world for a roll of TP. Ok not mine…

…it is someone ELSE stuck in the loo yelling: “Where did all the TP go?”

Well buggered if I know, last I knew there were 8 rolls in there.

Maybe there is a critter that eats TP ?

No, we know who has it, in their bedroom.

It is stashed in there under the tinned food, bags of chips and chocolate bars.

No they were not this bad before but hey, can’t let the odd one out get anything more than…anything.

The fridge is like a map of proprietary territory, with 1 small shelf being a DMZ.

Some people make me wonder.

 

 

In Grama’s Day.

In the years between 1910 and 1912, a family of 5 was thrown from their home, the children sat upon the mattresses in the back lane contemplating their new state of homelessness.

Their father, a man with a weakness for drink, leave them to return to his family who are well off, with a dairy, lands and money.

The mother and children are unwelcome by his family, and end up in a workhouse.

In the years between 1910 and 1912 the middle daughter (my grandmother) and her 3 year old brother, were sent to Canada by Dr Barnardo’s to…a new family.

They did not wish to go, after all the mother and older sister were still with them even if the father and his family wished them to go. Even with tales of fruit you could pick off the trees on the side of the road and gold findable in the streams they still did not wish to go.

Their arrival to the “new world” was met with much disillusionment and for the girl age 12 it was more the life of a slave to do chores, sleep in the barn and grow up without knowing the family she loved.

My grandmother lived to be 105 years old, through some of the hardest times possible, and she herself went through something akin to what I am…twice.

My grandmother never forgave the people that sent her to the “new world” and would spend a lot of time listening to the audio book “Little Immigrants” whispering that it was worse than that but…”listen to it and you will understand a little”.

To the day she died she wondered what became of her mother, older sister (who she never heard from again)  and younger brother, who she lost track of during the war.

I imagine what she would tell me today, if we could talk.

She would not be happy to know that there is just me left, but then perhaps her going before the rest was  a kindness.

She deserved a lot of those.

Why are there laws?

People.

I use to look around at the people I knew and think they were reasonable, law abiding and decent for the most part.

I knew of people that put their toes over the lines a little but I did not really have anything to do with them.

I have discovered some things that I never really wanted to discover and it makes me sad but by now I am not so very surprised.

Someone once asked me why, for the most part, I am in favor of the Police and most of that is, because they do the things that need doing for those who can’t do them, themselves.

You see, most people will never come across those who kill, rape, abuse, or will take everything they have, over and over, and not feel anything other than totally entitled.

The thing that I did not know until I discovered what some particular people were like behind those nice facades, was that people breaking the rules or laws, are not always as dumb as people like to think.

Seriously, some people know exactly what they can do and not get caught.

If your expecting them to feel empathy, remorse or to care one iota, they don’t.  In fact in some cases, they like to inflict mental and emotional pain on top of stealing everything someone has and deceiving them.

It makes them feel superior to accomplish the deed…and have you know they did it and got away with it.

I guess some people come by it honestly, in one instance I know of,  their father was a gambler, bigamist and thief.  Their grandfather was so pristine and shiny that he could claim to know the Krays and have em round the house for a visit.  They all grew up moving from country to country, scamming, stealing and claiming whatever government benefits they could (in more than one country at a time), the dad would change jobs and countries, marry, steal from the women, then return to his wife back in England.

Now the thing to realize is, these folk have all the things worked out on what they can get away with, and who will care about what they do. Who is likely to kick up a stink about what has happened.

That is why they do it the way they do.

So contemplate for a moment if the few laws that they do not break were not in existence?

You see like chameleons they can fit into their surroundings, there is no warning sign, no “danger Will Robinson” , there is just the snake charmer and the prey.

Oh yes I know that could not be you, could it.

The thing that amazes me most about people is, how many admire those that do what these people do.

Why is it that people think those who prey on others are so cool or smart?

Because this time it was not you and you don’t think it can happen to you?

Bravo for the con man, cheer on the thief, don’t blame the player…unless you are the one being played, robbed and losing everything you own because you trusted the wrong person.

It is sad, in this day and age, for people to cheer on the thief and disdain the victim.

I had a friend say that she contemplated suicide, being trapped inside such a web and losing everything, unable to get away she viewed her options as few or nonexistent…but as my friend said…then they would get away with driving her to kill herself without fear of repercussion.

I must say I admire her resolve, so much more so now than I did at the time, however I never looked kindly on the persons who put her in that position, while others blamed her for it.

We all live in an ocean of predators, with a few lifeguards we call police sparsely spaced about and some of the predators have the lay of the land down pat, so appreciate the lifeguards for what they can and do for you.

Some parts of the ocean you really do not want a close of view of, in so many different areas, my view is only on one.

The trick is not in realizing what is going on, it is accepting you can’t do anything about it, and surviving the extrication process somehow.

The predators have already moved on and your already just a spec in the rear view mirror that will soon be gone.

the TP police…ride again.

You know the type of people that will count out toilet paper squares to give you because they are that anal and concerned with money? The ex’s mother is that person – this morning she put a new roll of toilet paper in the upstairs bathroom. It’s gone. So I am in my room and she was in the doorway ranting about the toilet paper – Thomas showered and he apparently LOVES to go through toilet paper (apparently).

Until the last 6 months I would never imagine I would be so happy that I walk the extra flight of stairs to use the OTHER bathroom.

Remember folks “BE SQUARE AWARE. Conserve your Toilet Paper, save the world” (or a few pennies whichever way inclined you are).

I feel pain today.

Let down the barriers and be, just be, without fear, pain or insecurity holding you back.
Acknowledge not the tears unshed, breath passed that tightness in your throat.
Be safe enough to allow yourself freedom to break.
Not what it is acceptable in others eyes to feel, or acknowledge but be free to experience you own feelings.
No one to tell you that you are unworthy to cry, wrong to be hurt, beneath the right of consideration or insult.
Look upon things with fresh eyes, not those coloured by the deceit, betrayal and abuse.
Khalil Gibran once said that, “Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.”
I think he is wrong, for the breaking does nothing but undermine the strength of self, and the understanding is not positive, but a stark view into blackness of the souls of others.
Can you view into such without being scarred?
Can you reach out and unlock the barriers of protection to dare let a fresh breath of life in?
Khalil Gibran also wrote that “Much of your pain is self-chosen.”
I beg to differ, and venture that we select words of others to stand in for that which we lack the capacity to say aloud or place upon paper.
Pain is not self chosen, unless you are at the core a masochist.
It is easy to blame ourselves for the actions of others towards us, allow them freedom from responsibility that they truly hold.
The wisdom to withhold blame, assign responsibility and accept in ourselves our guilt, innocence or stupidity, is never easy to achieve.
First we need the freedom, to feel, whatever we do, and divest ourselves of the imposed constraints of others, who for selfish reasons would deny us our simple right to humanity.
It is never wrong to feel, what matters is what you do with it, and that you somehow grow from it.
Pain does not make us stronger, or necessarily wiser, but it can be survived, and allow us to be kinder to others when we see them in situations which mirror our own.
© Simple Lady March 14, 2014

Whirlwind of Ridiculous

I wonder sometimes if the world spins solely because people choose to be contrary or simply difficult, and if everyone got along the planet would suddenly cease all movement, and gravity would go splat.

The ex wants to exchange houses with someone, there needs to be an electrical inspection done.

Simple right?

I thought so, I mean how difficult can letting someone in and having them check the sockets and light switches possibly be?

Welllllllllllllll, going by the theme of this post? VERY.

This was the 4th scheduled appointment.

The first one I waited, the bloke never showed up, the second one likewise, the third one was made but I was not informed so well that ended up being a non occasion which brings us to today.

I hate missing appointments, they are made for a reason, people make an effort to come to do something and we all hope they are on time because we have things to do with our days but guess what? So do they. So I kinda like to have things down sorted, done and dusted.

This in mind, I walk the dog prior to their arrival, expecting that they would not be early, and get the dog done so that there is no stress about her needing to use the washroom.

I am walking back to the house and I see the guys van outside and think, oh well he is early (looking at my watch it is 1201 and the schedule window is 1200 – 1400hrs. I wonder if one of the 2 other housemates that are in the house let him in – but as I walk by the van to go to the door, he is sitting in the van.

Ok, he was getting himself together and will come to the door in a minute.

I take the dog to the bedroom and shut her in, return downstairs and the fellow knocks, I open the door to let him in and he is saying he rescheduled.

Say what? I was 1 minute late?

The housemate that he had spoken to is on the stairs yelling that he needs to go into every room and he is not going into hers  or one of the others…colour me confused.

So I get the guy to stay, but he confirms he needs access to every room and bingo – it’s not possible if she won’t let him.

So the fellow leaves, I feel like a putz for that, the housemate is ranting at me because they should have been told (yes I agree but it was not up to me to do that, I figured the ex would inform everyone as they are family)  and after getting yelled at I finally call the ex at work and they get pissy with me as well.

Hold up, I did not set up this situation, nor did I mess it up.

I walked the dog, was back in time, let the person in…that was my responsibility.

After the fellow leaves, with my sincerest heart felt apologies, everyone is off in a huff, and I think would the world stop spinning on its axis if everything just went smoothly and everyone got along?

I think it might.

However, as it will never happen, I won’t find out.

The ex’s way of responding is apropos for them, they threaten to move out on May 1, so screw everyone.