Ain't nothin' gonna break my stride,

Nobody's gonna slow me down...Oh no, I've got to keep on mooovin'.

That's a great song, and an even better sentiment. One I've only begun to tap into now that I'm solidly in my 40's.

I grew up being a bit, let's say 'morose' to be kind to my younger self, and didn't really even see the glass much less be able to tell if it was half full or empty. I didn't spend a lot of time thinking 'happy' thoughts. My father was an alcoholic with pedophile tendencies, my mother tepid in her demonstrations of love, and my younger brother a complete pain in the (bleep). Your basic garden-variety late '70's family dysfunction.

In recent years, however, I've allowed my husband to rub off on me in some very good ways. (stop it... I'm not being dirty) He's a gem, and like I said in my last post usually a very positive person. When he gets down in the dumps, I feel my duty to be the lifter upper. Back in the day -- when we were just starting out together -- it was exclusively the province of my guy to lift me out of the dumpster emotionally. I feel the sting of those years -- all that hefting with very little reciprocal effort on my part -- and thus feel compelled to 'make up for it' in redoubled efforts now.

So, I've noticed -- and happily, so have close friends -- that the doldrums don't hold me under water quite so long as they used. That's the way with bullies: their power over you decreases in direct proportion to your increasing confidence in triumphing over them. And the moroseness or depression or the doldrums or the blues -- whatever you want to call it -- is one big, bad bully. But then, the ones generated from inside usually are.

Of course the way to invite a bully to another attempt at domination is to announce on the bullhorn that you've bested him.

In a sense, with winning the NaNoWriMo challenge, getting a much needed new car, finding out that the damage done to our bank account was only in the amount of three dollars -- (yes I went yesterday, found out it was an organized effort by someone(s) in Florida just systematically hitting a series of bin numbers) ** I had started to feel ... shall we say a little smug? Yeah, that's a good word. I was letting down my guard, opening my arms wide, picking up that bullhorn and shouting "Look at ME! I'm able to stay 'up' all by myself! The Bully has LOST!"

(**Okay, so I'm naive -- it was more like over $150.00...but still. It could have been worse. Way worse.)

Heheheh. Someone much more eloquent than I once wrote "Pride goes before a fall." Lucifer knows that one by heart... and so. do. I.

Oh, yeah, I'm a good one for getting lazy when I've hit a high spot. If anyone can coast on past accomplishments, I can. If anyone can diet to the right size and then think "My work here is done," as they rub their hands together in anticipation before diving into the bin of unlimited Oreos, I'm your gal. Matter of fact, I've done it every year for the past six. If there's EVER been a soul who thought, "I've achieved (__________) now I get to fall back and watch the motes floating lazily in the sunbeams," I am that soul.

But that's not the way it works, is it? Those of us who struggle -- be it with our weight, or depression, or addiction -- must always be vigilant. Always on the lookout for that little chink in the armor or crack in the fortified wall or hole in the dam.

As devotees of (insert your passion here) like to say, "It's not__________, it's a way of life," so too must the strugglers, the battle-scarred worriers, the bullied, the sullied, those pilloried by real or phobic or outright imagined fears.

For me, I think I can identify with all of those bondages in one way or another. And so... I soldier on, trying to remain vigilant, on the look-out for any sign of vulnerability...never really awake, and only occasionally very well rested. My armor is lightweight, though, and the weapons are deadly accurate, sharpened as much by intent as by daily use. When I do fall asleep on the job, the quicker I can wake and fight, the better the outcome.

Because I've been without the armor before. And it's a defeated end to a fight that is never really begun.

It's always somethin'

Looking out the window which frames the tree that flips me off, I can see blue sky bright with sunshine wherein puffy clouds drift lazily. I think, "It's December," with no little amount of astonishment. The odds of the contracted roofers replacing our worn patchwork quilt of protection before the winter snow arrives grow shorter by the hour. "It's coming, it's coming," my mind whispers, lest the snow gods hear me and come bearing gifts of enchantment and treachery.

It all started several months ago, actually in early June, when around these parts the late spring gives into summer's insistence and the tornadoes threaten wide swathes of retribution on the evil and the good alike. We aren't particularly evil...but then we aren't exceptionally good, either. So, it all comes out a wash, I guess. Anyway, our proverbial number was up.

Some background, first. We had endured many a season here ensconced in a snug if sprawling house with good bones but a terrible, old, worn out flat roof. Alas, fixing a flat roof is a crap shoot and the patch job performed before we finalized the purchase of the house lasted approximately 6 months. Coincidentally (or was it?) at the first rain, we had three separate leaks inside. Fun. Ah well, at least we had enough buckets.

My husband being an enterprising young man rigged syphons in the low spots - first using left over evaporative air conditioning tubing (did I mention that up until about a month ago we haven't had central air for about four years? Ah-- yes, well, I digress) and later, after the cooler tubing wore out, some fresh poly tubing. Easy peasy -- if you don't mind going out in every snow and rainstorm and sucking on the tubing to get the water flowing. (and yes, we've both done it, though to be fair, he's done it much more than I)

We knew it would be a loooong time till we could afford to have the roof redone, so we reconciled ourselves to the 'sucking'. (metaphorical usage intended)

Then came last June, and the tornadic weather which brought us - our whole town, really - a blessing disguised as a curse: the worst hail storm anyone can remember -- and we've got some folks around here who are in their 90's and still sharp as a tack. So, yeah. Looong time. Not a skylight emerged intact from the wrath of that storm, unleashing it's fury in the form of softball sized (yes, really) stones.

We called our insurance peeps a week later -- after someone advised us we should. What did we know? We thought, "Flat Roof -- no one's gonna touch it," so we didn't call at first. The adjuster came out and totaled the roof, though.

And we've been waiting ever since to get it fixed. (There was the little matter of the heating and air conditioning guy who stopped up the progress by 'intending' to do this or that, showing up without calling, doing about an hour and a half worth of work every sixth day and letting new leaks rain water down the new holes he sawed into our already overtaxed roof...But I digress again.)

Yeah... But we do have our dining room finished -- except for six pieces of trim that we cannot match (still looking) -- but then we did that job 100% on our own, too.

Last night my husband said, "I'm through depending on other people. They always let you down." Aw! That is sad. This man is not that kind of man. He's always hoped for the best, prepared for the worst...but kept on believing the best -- of everyone. That he said something like that? Is not a good sign.

And now... just got a call from the bank -- at 5:02 pm (riiight) telling us our debit cards have been turned off due to some "suspected fraudulent activity". When I asked the bank rep "how much we talking about here" she said, "I can't tell you anything about it, I'm only calling you (at 5:02 pm, when you have to sit and STEW all night long worrying about it but be unable to DO anything because the bank hours are set to 'closed') to let you know why your card wouldn't work should you try and use it..." Great. Hope we don't bounce any outstanding checks while we work this little snafu out.

Our life is full of many blessings that cannot be measured in dollars and cents... but when it comes to dollars and cents...

It's always somethin', idn't it?