The lake is not really on fire

As the weather finally cooled off the wind became a steady roar.

Hope texts me “is Lake Luna where you spent the summer 2 years ago?” Suddenly I’m totally over the angst about not having a place to park the mothership for the summer. Turns out the Lake wasn’t quite on fire but close enough. Too close for comfort.

Started a new medication for my sugar brains and already it seems like something is different. Of course, while I was shooing my vagal-prone youngest son out of the house so I can stab myself in the belly Hubbin is in the other room loading his gullet with ice cream and caramel sauce followed by chocolate muffins.

This morning, having not eaten breakfast Hubbin is complaining he still has an infected toe that doesn’t seem to be improving. Before we’ve started the day this discourse evolves into a tantrum about the oldest son’s effort to install an AC unit when the house is 90 degrees. He starts “you need to tell him…” and this is my primary complaint. Me telling the younguns what to do makes me the one at fault if I don’t effectively communicate what will meet his specifications. I’m not ok with that. It interferes with the relationship I want to have with my offspring.

If he wasn’t aggravated enough he needs the keys to the PT Cruiser. He starts to yell at the youngest who reminds him that it was Big Daddy who drove the car last. I suggest he eat something before he leaves the house. This just pours gas on the fire and I’m told it’s none of my concern. Well, if you weren’t yelling at me in a sugar brain fury I wouldn’t concern myself.

By the time I’m dressed and ready to help he’s run off in my car leaving a car with no keys blocking a truck I never drive and no van to pack for my trip next week.

Yes, I’m getting the hell out of here next week. Not because of this but because.

Gee, its an ass thing for him to do but I did not lose MY keys so I tell Wu what needs to be done while I’m gon and take the PT to get a new key ($70 OUCH!) and if I’m going to take heat for things I haven’t gotten done because he has so monopolized the tools that I can’t even install a couple of screws then I have a solution. I’ve been waiting for 3 weeks to get something I need done and cannot even find a drill. He’s got $1000s worth of tools in a shop he declares his domain and complains that nobody but him does any of the work. Driving through the cow pastures and wind-beaten dog tail pines I listen to my war machine tunes and come up with my own set of facts. (His tantrum almost made me forget to take my morning meds but I caught myself and got my “stuff” back on track).

When we met I was a capable person. I worked on B-52’s loaded with nukes. I changed my own oil and tires. I had my own tools. So after I wash the PT I drive to Harbour Freight and load up a bucket with necessary things. The irony, the new drill is labeled “Warrior” so I was channeling something and I headed that way. It was also on sale cheap so if it poops the bed I’ll just buy another one but HE will not have the slightest interest in it. It’s in my office and it’s not his.

Been waiting for the backyard motion light to be reinstalled since we painted the house 3 years ago. Guess what? $12 fix.

Been waiting to assemble and install the last set of shelves into the new “pantry” in the hallway because I needed to install 2 brackets for a new light. He kept saying he was going to do it but 3 weeks have gone but and one of the brackets has disappeared. I still have one bracket. I have a drill! I also have some heavy-duty velcro. Effit! Problem solved.

So he’s been gone maybe 10 hours doing his important new thing and responded to nothing even when I informed him he’s got steak and shrimp waiting for him when he gets home. He’ll show me. I got online and finally finished the application to be a student at the university this fall. Cheaper than a new car key! Something to worry about next September.

The lake isn’t on fire. I’m still a human being and I kind of feel better. I hope it lasts. If not I’ll power down until it passes and then just go at it again. I know who I am and it isn’t the vacuous housewipe waiting to be told I fail at folding Big Daddy’s underpants (that’s never going to be my job). I’m proud of the things he’s accomplished but when I get talked over 3 times trying to tell him I have a REAL problem, and oh by the way it could be his problem too, I still remember who I am even if he’s forgotten or chooses to ignore it.

It started raining, a fox rain no less, on my way home.

Wu found the car keys on Hubbin’s desk. I said put them back and we will not speak of it.