I'm Still Here!

Has been a year since I've written anything in this particular blog. I do keep posting my poetry. The journey continues. One day at a time. Lots to write about but just not the motivation. I carry around scraps of paper with the edges worn of unfinished poems in my pocket. They'll be completed one day. Until the next time.

Personal Recipes IV

This is my personal trail mix recipe. It's a real hit with the crew at work. Lots of calories, so moderate intake. I keep it to half cup per serving when on the job.
It's a walmart special, meaning that all the ingredients can be found at walmart. Should you be able to grow your own or prep your own ingredients, that would make the flavor all the better. Amy toasted some oatmeal in the oven for one batch and it was delicious!
Ingredient sizes and amounts are determined by your personal preferences and how big a batch you want. I use the entire contents of the packages as they are sold except for the raisens and chocolate and any obvious amounts which are too much. It's limited by only what YOU want in YOUR trail mix. Your trail mix is unique to you and what you like.
Start with a party mix of nuts of your choice, whatever your favorites are or just one type of nut if you prefer only peanuts or almonds or cashews or pecans or whatever. I like the lightly salted with sea salt type or no salt at all. I use the entire can.
Now mix in some raisins of some sort. I like a mix of half plain raisins and half yogurt covered or chocolate covered raisins. I use the amount of the package of the yogurt covered raisens.
Mix in some chocolate. I used to use M and M's, now I use a mix of half and half milk chocolate and semisweet chocolate that you find in the baking section to bake cookies with. The amount I use is determined by how large a batch and how many other ingredients are going into the batch. Too much chocolate, if there is such a thing, can take from the flavors of the other ingredients.
I like to mix in a package of dried mixed berries. Sometimes dried banana chips or apricots or even prunes. All limited by your imagination. Toss all of this into a closed container or big mixing bowel and mix thoroughly.
One batch I mixed in some oven roasted oatmeal Amy had roasted up. It was the best. It's good for you in moderate amounts, bon apettit!

Victoria Graduates High School

My oldest daughter, Victoria, graduated high school this month on the first. I am proud. She walked across the stage, received her diploma. It was a small class, less than a hundred graduates.
                           There is always something about your first child, my father used to say when I was growing up. I was recalling my own high school graduation. The only graduation ceremonies I ever participated in for myself were these school graduations. In college I didn't walk after earning my LVN, I went to work an overtime shift. I did get to see my former in-laws and even my sister who hasn't spoken to me for the last half year. More on that bull shit next month.
                           I emailed Victoria two weeks after the graduation ceremony about this milestone in her life. A crossroads of sorts, life gets good now. Real, even more real. This is the first time in ones life one does not have to be anywhere. In Texas, its law for children to go to school up till the 12th grade, anything after that is on the individual.
                           My own real education began after high school, in community college. This was the real deal, transferable credit, my own dollar, my own time, my own initiative. I was going to get out what I put into it. Still is when I should decide to go back to school.
                           As a parent, I wonder how these youngsters ever getting anything out of a public school education. I'm certain my father wondered the same about myself. He graduated from a catholic school. I went to catholic school for only 3 years in elementary school and 1 in junior high. I tried to send each of my daughters to catholic school, Victoria went for the first 6 years, Judith went successfully for grades 1-5, and Stephanie went only for kindergarten. After they each were held back one year, I place them in the local public school. They seemed to really blossom after that or perhaps were just not challenged enough.
                           My former father in law is a retired educator and feels that there is no difference between catholic based schools and public schools. I think there is a lot to be said for catholic education, it's worth the dollar. I would agree with my father in law in that a lot of a child's education is in the parents. Unfortunate for my daughters, their mother has done little for their education. It was always on me. She didn't even register them for school until after the divorce. Victoria and Judith were in high school by then.
                            I feel a successful education is a partnership between the child, the educator, and the parent. Each has to do their part or the student suffers. The student has to do it for their own self, the parent shouldn't do it for them, it's not for the parent. The educator should inspire, not just show up and follw a lesson plan. The educators I remember are the ones who inspired me. Parents are a child's first teacher and should show their children that education is a continuing life long endeavour.
                            My former mother in law is a diploma grad nurse, that is she graduated from a  program of nursing which was not a college degree, a lot of hands on stuff. I don't believe these programs exist anymore. After nursing for over 20 years and working up to an administrative position, she had to go back to school to get a college degree in nursing, a BSN, to keep her job.
She just kept on going earning her masters in nursing.
                           My father in law has his masters in biology. My own father has his certificate in radiology technology, not a college degree. I followed in my father's foot steps, I'm an LVN. I am not a degreed individual, not yet any way. Since retiring, my father has let his licensure expire. He's let it go completely. My mother has worked all her life, not ever graduating high school or earning a GED.
                          Getting back to Victoria, she wants to go into nursing. Didn't that child learn anything from her father? More on that later. I couldn't be more more proud.

The Poetry In My Pocket

                               For some years now, I do not recall precisely how many, perhaps the last 8 or 10; I have carried poetry in my pocket. Not complete poems but bits and pieces I am working on. Some will remain on these sheets of paper for years before I get to them or make any progress towards their completion.
                              Mostly it's just a line or an idea. Sometimes it's only a working title. I look them over to get the proverbial creative juices flowing. Some days are better than others. Lately, I feel I suffer from perpetual writer's block. I wonder if artists or other poets or writers do the same or similair? Hemingway carried a little black book or was it Kerouac? Painters and sketchers I'm certain doodle and do studies or exercises of some sort.
                              The folded sheets will get tattered and worn at the edges and corners and I'll transcribe them onto fresh paper. Once I misplaced them and was going apeshit tearing about the house and truck and backtracking in a frantic search for them. I thought they were caught in the wash, but thankfully I found them. My anxiety relieved.
                              One of these days I'll get to them. Writing is work, so I've read. Poets are supposed to challenge themselves daily or do writing exercises or such. Maybe they're the successful ones? Anyway I'll get back to those sheets of paper today or tomorrow. The edges and corners are so worn there are holes in them. time to transcribe them or actually get to work on them or something.

On a CPAP now and other ramblings

                                                      Started using a CPAP for treatment of severe obstructive sleep apnea this month. It's a pain in the ass and inconvenient. I really don't like it but am taking this as the proverbial wake up call to drop weight and take better care of myself.
                                                      Since the divorce and getting with Amy, I've gained a good 30lbs. When I was with Dana, I weighed about 215-220 on average. Now I've ballooned out to an average of 240lbs. I need to do something.
                                                      The CPAP does make for a more restful sleep and has eliminated the snoring. In the weeks before starting it, I started to get out more with the walking and cycling and getting busy around the house. Even started to get out more and get up to the museum district in Houston and a chess club in Galveston.
                                                       Also started counselling with Dana and the Depelchin Institute. Will see how that goes. Dana has been using the techniques on herself and it shows some. Stephanie's behaviors have changed for the positive also. The three of us, Dana, the counselor, and myself meet here at our home in Texas City weekly. It can be a pain in the ass with working nights and juggling Dana's schedule which is bullshit as she isn't working full time. Dana still does the part time job at SUMC and makes no effort to find better employment. She started school again at UHCL to finish her degree in education. At least the counselor is cute to look at.
                                                        Most sessions, Dana bitches about her problems but this is becoming less frequent. I do as I am asked. It really isn't anything new. The techniques taught are the same things I would have done if I had support from Dana or from Amy. When it comes to my daughters, I feel like I don't get help from anyone and God is my only friend.
                                                        I have started using the techniques with the girls, but it's all material I've used in one way or another in my way as a father. Nothing new there. As a parent, I've always felt I was going at it alone. No help from anyone else except God. Have always felt that Dana didn't pull her share of the load and was certainly not understanding in anyway. Still feel that way now. However now Dana is getting a taste of what it is to actually support a family, work, pay bills, deal with everything and everyone. It's only a taste though and no real measure of any amount of what parenting is. Good luck, she's going to need it. Pray.
                                                      I am not perfect as a parent, far from it, but I've always felt and have been told that I always did the bulk of the parenting. I have no qualms or regrets about fatherhood. I may not do well as a spouse to any woman, but I do my damndest as a father. I'm unable to put it any better way in words.
                                                     Am going to get eady to get Stephanie and take her to her appointment and then I can get some rest.worked last night and am running on about 2hrs sleep in the last 24. All a part of fatherhood. No regrets. 

Happy Birthday Stephanie!

Today is my youngest daughter's birthday! She's twelve today. I won't see her till next week as I am working, she's out at the movies with her mom and sisters and grandparents. I love and miss each of my girls. They're growing up so fast. I really need to get out there and spend more time with them. So much to do at that house. I get on the facebook and keep tabs on their posts and pics, I do not post much on facebook myself. I do post on this blog though I doubt they or any one else really reads it. I suppose it's therapuetic in a way.

Chess Is SO Sexy!

Chess is just SO sexy! DO NOT mistake the game for just geeks and nerds. I love to play chess and would like to make more time for the game. One of my most pleasant memories with Amy is playing chess with her out on the back patio, drinking coffee, and sharing cigarettes, when we first started getting together. I miss playing chess with her. Play chess nude! Do not remember the last time I played nude, had to have been years ago with Heather or Denise. Sexy chess - oh, the memories!

This Is A Test

Teaching myself to add pics to my blog. This is an experiment. Let's see how it turns out.

What The Hell Was Going On With Blogger?

Has been six months now since I've been able to post anything. What the hell was going on with blogger.com? I don't know, only that whenever I tried to post anything blogger.com would just save it to drafts. Now I can start blogging again. For a while I thought something was going on with my computer, maybe a virus or something.
Anyhow, navyecho4sierra is back online. 2011 almost over and 2012 just around the corner.
Married Amy on 20august2011 in Las Vegas. Here I go again!
My oldest daughter, Victoria, moved out of my house in Hitchcock and in with my sister. We'll see how that goes.
I am well, thanks to God. One day at a time, lots of prayer. Must be dashing along now, bills to pay, house to put in order, etc, etc. More to follow later.

First Ever Broken Bone

Sprang my left ankle when I was hiking about on Sandia mountain in New Mexico last month and didn't give it another thought. I returned home to cycling, mowing the yard, taekwondo, working on my feet, etc etc. This wasn't my first sprang ankle after all. I would tape it up when doing taekwondo and ice it up afterwards and after work. Would also eat up the motrin like candy.

Four weeks later, I'm wondering why it hasn't healed. I truthfully thought I was just over doing it, nothing serious. I decide to go to a doctor for an xray and find out it's a fracture. Not the real bad kind, just a chip of bone off the interior aspect of my tibia at the very end of the bone where it connects into the ankle bones. Thank God the tendons and ligaments were intact and undamaged.

Now I'm in a walking boot splint for 3 weeks until I return to a podiatrist and decide if they're going to do surgery to remove the chip. I sure hope no surgery, surgeons, surgery scare me. I'm a nurse and used to work a minor surgery clinic as a navy corpsman. I want no part of the knife if it can be helped. The podiatrist is 80-90% certain that I will heal well enough without surgery. The bone chip may or may not reattatch itself. Will learn more after more xrays june 10.

So, I am babying this thing as best I am able, wearing the walking boot splint at all waking hours and at work. The only times I remove it are to shower and to sleep. 43 years old and my first fracture. As of this writing, it only hurts after work, and the swelling is all but gone. There's only minor edema, nothing really and the discomfort is more of a dull ache than a pain. The walking boot splint is a pain in the ass, but I do not want surgery so I am following doctor's orders.

More to follow next month so will just limp along now until the xrays in june.

Went To New MexicoTo Visit Dad

Went to Alburqurque, New Mexico to visit my fathe for a week. My father was born and reared here in Galveston, Texas but moved out about 8 years ago, soon after my grandparents passed, when he was married to Dion. It was the first time I have spent more than a weekend under my father's roof since before I was 18 years old and my first time flying since 1993, before my daughter Judith was born.
The flight out was pleasant enough. I am older and, I hope, wiser now than when I last flew. I really was as excited as a child about the entire trip, flying, getting away for a bit.
I stayed with my father and his wife, Jerri. They live well and comfortable. From their backyard on a hillside he has a great view of the Sandia mountain to the east. When the sun sets, the light hits the mountain just right about 7:00 pm or so and the mountain is bathed in a red like a giant slice of watermelon. Sandia is watermelon in spanish and hence the name of the mountain.
That first day, my father drove us up to the crest of the mountain. There was ice and snow in the depressions and canyons and in those shadow covered areas not getting full sunlight. Atop the mountain are some radio towers and a visitors center. The wind was howling and cold and it was nearly noon in mid april. Thankfully I had my leather jacket, watch cap, and gloves. The snow was whipped about all over and the wind did howl. Ice seemed to be coveringthe ground at almost every placed I stepped. I was wearing jungle boots and jeans but no socks. Thank God for the jungle boots.
The following days we would drive out from the city into the surrounding desert and mountains. The landscape is stark and beautiful. Reds, browns, tans, and grays are punctuated by srips of green where there is a river or other water source. The land is hard and rocky. Mesass rise for hundres of feet up from the desert floor and the roads twist through and over canyons and hills and mountains. Black rock surrounds ancient and extinct volcanos now just knobs up from the desert floor.
The land is seemingly empty punctuated by peublos, native american communities, small about the area of the CYMF. They are all over. in the valleys, atop mountains, crowing mesas, and like an oasis out in the middle of nowhere. The buildings seem ancient, made of earth and wood and local brick. The newer buildings are tribal offices, schools, clinics, and some homes like out here on the coast. The defining feature I liked out there were the high brick or cement walls enclosing the backyards and the low ones forming little patios in the front. They offer nice degrees of privacy and some protection from the wind which would eat up a wood privacy fence like the ones we have down here.
The natives live in these small simple structures with propane and wood for heat and large outdoor earth ovens to bake. The streets are narrow. The only luxeries I saw outside were new trucks and satelite TV dishes. They live simply. In the burbs and the cities are larger modrn homes emulating the natives, but they lack character like the pueblos.
At acoma sky city, the home of the acoma natives atop a mesa in the desert, is the oldest continually occupied urban area in the United States. The people and the village have been here for over a thousand years. The road up atop to the mesa is less than a hundre years old and is a twisting, steep way. The REAL way up and down is a rock stairwell with hand and foot holds worn into the rock from hundreds of years of ancient natives, invaders, explorers, and the current locals who still live in their ancestoral home. This was the way I took down, much safer than the bus ride back I placed my hands and feet into rock worn smooth by original inhabitants of our country and the invaders who are also part of my heritage. It was a real spiritual visit.
I asked permission to enter a kiva, this is the native house of prayer, like a church, and was denied. I did not press the matter. They did let me visit the mission church in their pueblo, still active after hundres of years. The natives called my father and I "bro", I suppose because of our facial features, color, and my father's ponytail. WE were ASKED permission for the tour group to enter the cemetry. The land, all of it, is sacred to them as are their resting ancestors who have gone on before. My heart and soul swelled, spiritually, emotionally, I didn't want to leave but stay and study and learn and pray and really get back to nature in a way I won't feel again for some time. Maybe even to heal.
These people are not my closest relatives. My grandmothers were born in northeren mexico, the land of the Yaqui, the Apache, the Comanche. They were light complexioned women like the spanish people of europe. My grandfathers, one born in Galveston, Tx and one born in San Marcos, Tx, were dark skinned men like my mother and brother. I am told by my mother, Apache blood runs in her side of the family. A great grandmother was said to be full Apache who may have killed a man with a hatchet she was said to carry after he beat her severely. The body was never found. This story I heard from my mother, she heard it from her grandmother and an aunt. Both sides of my family have the high cheekbones and the deep spiritual eyes, from work and prayer and the sun and life.
At one point of my visit we went up into the Jemez mountains. These were by the far the most beautiful.beuatiful black volcanic rock and red granite. A river cuts through the canyon floor. Sheer rock walls rise up on both sides. In the canyon are hot springs, a zen monostarie, spas, churches, it's a beautiful and spiritual place. I could really feel God there. We stopped by a place called Soda Falls. The rock seems to be ancient coral and a sulphiric smelling spring bubbled up from the rocks. The purest of water. The river banks are sporadically spotted with homes here and ther. Mostly miles of stark beautiful landscape. The wind sang through the canyons and gorges
Some of the other places I visited were Santa Fe, New Mexico, a yuppy expensive city. There is a church there I read about on the internet with a spiral staircase with seemigly nothing to hold it up as if to defy gravity itself. I studied it and concluded that it must hod its own self up some how. It was standing before me. Simple remarkable engineering like a strand of dna helix. It was mysterious and self explaing at the same time. As if to say, "What's the big deal? I am here, I exist, I am standing before you. No tricks or gizmos. Just accept."
The shopping was typical touristy shit, kokopelli and native american art out the ass, beautiful stuff. The purpose of my visit was my father. On the flight back home, all I thought about was the different light I see my father in now. I am 43 years old now, a father, divorced, and going through stuff. I saw how I am like my father in many ways and how I am not like him. I am happy to say I am my father's son and I am happy to say I am my mother's son. I am the result of both and their teaching and love. It was the proverbial acceptance in a big way.
Amy did not go with me, she worked. My daughters did not go with me. I went alone. It was neccessary this way. For many years I have made excusesabout not going out there, like I did about the ACTS retreat, and when I quit making the excuses and went, it was great.
I feel as if a great weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I am not my mother or my farther. I am my own self. My brother would go out here almost every year and tell me our father was well and to go myself. I finally have.
My father and his wife Jerri are well, I don't worry as much now. He lives well, seems happy, has issues to work through stil. We both do. Jerri is gracious and good, making a home for themselves. My brother Xavier is well enough. He is still young and has to get his head out his ass, but he will be OK. He has to get there himself.
I returned home a renewed man, cooking for Amy on my days off. Reaching out to my daughters and mother and my father and brothers and sister in a new way. I see myself in a new light. The trip was therapeutic, healing. I can't wait to return. I feel a new zest for living.
The next time I go I'll take Amy and perhaps my daughters or perhaps Ill go alone again. Next time, I'll stay somewhere else anad see my father toward the end of the trip for a little while and maybe enjoy the landscape and city for my self, exploring all by my self.
I can apply this to my own life and attitudes here and now. I can't wait.

The Ides Of March

Here it is the 15th, the ides of march. Japan got it big, earthquakes and nuke plant meltdowns or about to melt down. Bad times for the japanese. Still cold over there.
I have these ays off from work and have things to do around here, change the oil in the car, the bathroom, the backyard, find a side job, the house in hitchcock, the list goes on and on. I can forget about going out to the nude beach or the museum district or a coffeehouse or anything like that. Have to get up off my ass and get to work.
ice and quiet in the house right now. Amy at work, no house mates since august, and it's pretty outside. Want to spend the day writing poetry and working out. Must get busy. More to follow later.

4 Glorious Weeks

Amy has been with the VA for 4 weeks now and it has been absolutely glorious. She is on days, 5 days a week, fromm 0800-1600, mon-fri, weekends off. I'm on nights, 1800-0600 on a rotating matrix, with every other weekend off. We see each other when I am off and briefly coming in or leaving for work.
I love the peace and quiet and solitude. As soon as she leaves work for the morning, I turn off the TV and curl up with a cup of hot strong coffee and the paper or do things around the house without interruption. Sometimes it's running errands or honey do's. Whatever it is, it's great. Most mornings, I'll soak in the hottub in the back yard. especially when I get home from work. One evening off, Amy even joined me ;).
This is the way I was hoping for when I first left Dana and the divorce proceedings were getting started. Peace and quiet and solitude. I didn't have the money to live as I do now then, still do not. Still have a lot of issues and concerns on my plate, My daughters, money, work, Amy, me, the list goes on. All told life has improved significantly these last 4 weeks.
Some of the things I have been doing, soaking in the hottub, stretching, enjoying a dvd or cd, praying, working out a bit, seeing my children, helping out my mother around her house, catching up with old friends and aquaintances. One day even playing tourist in the museum district up in Houston.
Can't wait for the days to turn comfortably warm and pretty. Am looking forward to some fishing, cycling, yard work, the nude beach, and any number of outdoor activities. We have a barbacue pit bought last summer we still havn't fired up yet!
It's been glorious and then some. I feel so much better these last few weeks and am looking forward to a brighter tomorrow. More to follow later.

Hottub Love!

Each time Amy and I hop into the hottub, we wind up making love. Fitting, as this hottub was the first place Amy and I made love in any capacity in October 2008. A month an a half later, I was moving out of my house in with her and inquiring about a divorce. Powerful stuff, that hottub love!
Our bodies entwined together. I enter her. She sucks me off. We experiment with a couple of positions - doggy style, seated, her riding me, balancing on the edge. Only our inaginations limit the possibilities. Our love making over flows to the indoors.
We are oblivious to the neighbors and what they may see. Hope they enjoy the show. I'm always nude in the backyard anyway unless I hear children in their back yard. I will have to invest in a privacy fence completely around the back. Currently, the privacy fence encompasses most of the backyard, not all of it. A small section has only open chainlink between the yards. If only to cover that small section. Oh the joys then!
When the housemates were here, they only fucked in it once which I am aware of. I watched for a bit. Sue and I were in the tub together that first night in October 2008. I made love with Amy only, Sue retreated to the front porch to read a book. Oh well. They never maintained it though, that task always fell to me. I was the one who drained it, disinfected it, filled it, shocked it, etc, etc.
Now with Amy in Houston at the VA working days, I make it a point to occasionally fire it up before I go to work so it will be hot enough when I come home in the morning. Unfortunate for me, I am alone when I do soak unless Amy is here. I enjoy a beer or two, shower, get some sleep. The wonders of the heat and water and the outdoors, nude. Yeah absolutely no clothes allowed in the hottub. No exceptions. I'm sure they foul up the filtration system or chemical balance of the water or something or another.
I soaked for a few minutes today, about 15 or so. Twice. I'm about to go back for another dip. More to follow later.

Looking Forward To 2011

Come on 2011! Let's get this year over with. 2010 was OK, nothing to really get excited about. Am eagerly awaiting for the new year and hoping. Always hoping. If it weren't for hope I wouldn't have anything. I havn't closed the doors entirely. but I am looking for new ones to open. Slowly I'm getting myself out of my rut. Some days are better than others. Am perpetually searching for that ultimate balance with everything - liffe, love, God, the world, my self, my children, family, friends, Amy, the list goes on. I look forward to the future with a postive attitude and maybe I learned something from my past. I don't know. Just trying to be here now and look forward and hope.

Oh well!

Here it is near the end of november and about to become december. 2010 was supposed to be the year I get my shit together. It was better after tthe housemates moved out and I thought it was going to be better after the ACTS retreat I participated in last month. Was not to be.
2010 has been the year I did catch up on bills and started to work some overtime and am almost "over" my first marriage. Although I am healthy, thanks to God, I do not always feel such. I am contending with my weight, 240lbs as of this morning. My laziness. I hope and pray I'm not getting depressed.
Now I can talk about problems with Amy, I think. I don't know. When it comes to Amy I don't know how much is menopause, how much is stress, how much could be depression, and how mush is simply me. Living with me and loving me isn't easy.
I have my personal issues. I am a divorced father of three daughters, two of them teens and one about to become 11 february next. I feel alone as if I have noone to talk to or maybe it's the responses of the people I do speak with. I feel like I have to get out more, meet new people.
Am coming to see a lot of similarities between Amy and Dana. Both will rot in front of the tv. Both can get lazy. Both have childhood abuse issues. At least Amy works and lives clean. Both can act out like immature little girls and pout and throw fits like a child. I think both are a little crazy, maybe manic depressive. Just hope and pray I'm not.
This has been a bad weekend. Had Stephanie over and Amy was a perfect horse's ass. Stephanie and I ran errands yesterday, mostly we watched dvd's, framed some posters I've had in storage for awhile. Bottom line, Amy and I not seeing eye to eye on my children. I wonder how my grandfather did it? How did those guys manage?
When I get into the shit, I think about my grandfathers. They were the real father figures in my life. More to follow later, december is just around the corner.

Hottub Anniversary, Religious Retreat, etc. etc.

Have been keeping this monthly blog now for almost 5 years, since august 2005. Sometimes I have trouble with coming up with something to write about and I'll a miss a month. Then I just have to take a look around me and mine and SOMETHING will come up. Sometimes it's a quick look at my appointment calender and something will pop up.
I keep a journal, a handwritten bound volume, for more than 20 years now and a pocket memo book I jot ideas down into. I save all these, calenders, journals, memo books, and sometimes go back over them. Usually i'm looking for something specific like when I changed the oil in the car last or such. Mostly it's the pack rat in me which keeps these things organized and locked away. Noone else may read them, ever. Maybe, after I'm dead and gone, someone will. They just might chunk them out as junk or read every word and figure out what was in my heart, mind, and soul. I seriously doubt if anyone reads this blog. Noone leaves any comments of importance.
Today, tonight, is the 21st of october. This was the night I came over to Amy, my girlfriend/fiancee/common law wife/ spouse/ live in lover/ however we're identifying ourselves this week, Amy's house and jumped into the hottub with her and the night we first made love or had sex or however you want to look at it. She has totally forgotten about the significance of this date, of course. Amy doesn't keep track of stuff like that. When she was married, I'll bet she forgot her own wedding anniversary. Anyway, tonight was the night and I wanted it to be special, of course it isn't.
We've been fighting for about a week. It all started when I took part in a church retreat, the A.C.T.S. retreat over this weekend past.
Now for the record, I've been wanting to do this retreat for some years, since I was still married and at Our Lady of Lourdes church in Hitchcock. I just made all sorts of excuses, too busy, no time, no money. Well, the no money was actually true. All the guys I spoke with who had been on the retreat said it was a lifechanging event for them. Since my divorce, I've been going back to church regularly and one sunday at mass I was up in the balcony looking down at these guys who were coming off retreat and one of them was so moved and emotional as to be sobbing during the service. The other retreatants just gathered around him and supported him, hugging him like a brother does and let's him know it's all going to be alright, nothing but love and such. as I looked down upon this scene I knew then and there that that was the experience I wanted, needed in my life for me.
So I spoke to a couple of guys who had gone on one and they got me the application. The retreat wasn't for a few months off, plenty of time to get time off from work and money together. So for the record, no arm twisting or any bullshit like that for me I WANTED TO GO AND I DID. I don't give a damn what Amy says.
I won't go into the details about the retreat here and now because that would be way too much. I will write that it WAS lifechanging. I came out of this weekend past spiritually recharged and with new tools to build with and new weapons to fight with. I feel like a new man. Now I realize I am still the same son of a bitch who left that thursday evening, but I'm not. Things are the same, but different. I am the same but different. If such contradictory statements are or can be true. I am certain they are.
Now, I don't know what Amy thought or had in mind as far as my coming out of this. I am not the holy roller type, waving my hands to heaven. Sorry to disappoint her in that department. I am a changed man. For many years, I have been unable to listen to or enjoy contemporary christian music. Amy loves it, Dana, my ex loves it too. The reason I had been so turned off to it is because Dana would listen to that stuff the entire 17 years we were married and not live it. I will go so far as to say I abhored the stuff. Don't go preaching to me one thing and then not live it. Amy understands this and she's observed, over the two years since I've left Dana, that I am just now able to "get into" the contemporary music at mass. Kind of like an Iraqi POW who was subjected to the barney song as a form of psychological torture. Put that guy through therapy and he might be able to listen to the barney song and not freak out.
For the first time in my life, I can now appreciate contemporary christian music to a degree. I'm getting better. But that was just the tip of the iceberg, there's more, lot's more. Have made plans to go back to bible study, something I did partake in once when I was at Our Lady of Lourdes, and thoroughly enjoyed. Have also made an appointment with a deacon about getting my marriage annulment. I identify my self as a roman catholic, but I'm a divorced catholic. That's a major sin, a mortal one. I havn't received the sacraments in good standing in over two years. It's a sin to receive communion when divorced and living in sin with another.
But I digress, there were all sorts of us men there, some fathers with their sons and vice versa. For some men, this was their second, third, or MORE return trip. THAT'S incredible. I can see why now. I can't wait to go back. I should have done this years ago, not that it may or may not have saved my marriage. Just that for my spirit and self, it was the most moving, emotional, spiritually recharging, lifechanging event I have experienced in a long time or to date. Everyone should go at least once. I want Amy to go, my mother, my sister, my daughters, my father, my brother, I want EVERYONE to go and experience what I had. Now I sound like a new born again christian or like a new christian all together. A new convert. I certainly feel like such.
I've always had a relationship with God, everyone does. But sometimes, I separate myself from God and His love. Call it life, work, ourselves, living, whatever. Now I'm not labelling good or bad, it's not all so cut and dry, black and white. There is a huge gray area there. I do feel as a result of this retreat experience I am closer to God. Father Frank once told me that I am so busy looking for God in the roar of a burning bush that I have forgotten or was unable to listen for God in a whisper.
I've read some about the how's and why's of the Mass and prayer and I still pray the rosary daily. I've even read the Holy Bible from cover to cover once over a year and a reading plan. From this retreat, I have a new hunger for it all inside of me. Sometimes it's a roaring fire and sometimes it's a glowing ember. But you throw gasaline on a glowing ember and see what happens. That's how I feel inside. I've always had a good foundation, now I'm building on it. I also realize that I'll be building on it and tearing it down and starting all over again sometimes and at other times I'll just be adding on and remodeling. Spiritual life is very much like building a house. I thank God for my grandparents and my mother for my spiritual foundation. Now I'm building on it.
I'll get back to the hottub sex thing another day.

Victoria turns 18

Last sunday, 12sep10, was my daughter's 18th birthday. As any father would be, I am proud. As any parent of their child could be , when their child legally progresses from underage to adult; I am understandably concerned. If fatherhood has taught me anything at all, it's that our children grow at different rates. Victoria may have the body of a woman and the legal written documentation to prove her legal age, she still lacks a certain self discipline and maturity. I'm sure I was much the same way and caused my parents similair concern. I hope and pray for each of my daughters, daily, sometimes more than twice daily. I love Victoria but not neccessarily like how she is living. There is a time when fathers must step just a little bit back and let there daughters take their own lumps, within reason. I have taught, am teaching my daughters, and they'll have to fall flat on their faces for some lessons to sink in. They'll find out own day with their own children. Then, maybe, they'll understand.

Housemates Have Moved Out!!

The housemates have moved out!! Sorry it didn't work out. I wasn't the best of housemates and i certainly havn't been very supportive or caring or loving or whatever you want to call it. Now it's just Amy and myself in this big three bedroom, two bath, two large family rooms, with hottub in the backyard, privacy fence, and detatched garage.
What did I think I was getting myself into in the first place on that dark and snowy night in dec '08 anyway? I was fairly certain my marriage was in the shit. The rest of it I was just playing by ear. In hind sight, oh, that ever crystal clear, 20/20, undeniable hindsight - I should have listened to my sea-mom, Pam; and found a place of my own. The proverbial shoulda, coulda, wouldas. Maybe, maybe not, would have saved myself a lot of trouble and drama? Oh, if only I knew then what I know now!
Must not fall into the woulda, couldas, shouldas, or into any other sort of negative mindset. Must learn from it all, be better for the experience and move forward, ever forward. Where ever forward may be. Some days may be better than others with Amy and my children and today has been a not so good one.
Have spent the better part of the day cleaning up the other bedroom, bathroom, vacuming, listening to Amy rant and rave about my lack of poor fathering skills. I've nearly had my fill. Have not ever claimed to be the perfect father. So I take it day by day.
We'll see what tomorrow brings. If I have to, I'll suggest to Amy that I pay her half the mortgage and utilities for two bedrooms, one bathroom, kitchen, yard, and half a garage privilages. I'll still cut the grass and do as I am able to around this property. Truth is, I like it here. I like this house and I don't feel like moving again.
If I can salvage a relationship with Amy, that would be great. That has yet to be seen. I am unable to afford a comparable place out on my own. Still under the child and spousal support bullshit. If only Dana would move out and then I could put my own place back together and maybe move back in. I like it here and am comfortable here. More comfortable now that the housemates have moved into their own place.
I'm not easy to live with and probably more difficult to love. Pam said I should have spent time by myself after I left Dana. Maybe I should have listened to her, there are a lot of thos maybes in my life. I look forward to tomorrow, an ever hopeful and brighter tomorrow. It's up to me to make it happen. So here I sit typing, broke, but not broken. One day at a time, always praying the rosary, and hoping. More to follow later.

My Dietary Rules (yeah, right!)

Here are a few notes on dietary rules I SHOULD keep, but truthfully do not. If I could commit myself to keeping these rules, I'm certain to drop some pounds, live healthier, look better, and perhaps even live longer.
The first rule is commitment, commit oneself to good, positive, healthy diet habits. Commitment, REAL commitment is paramount to almost all endeavors in our lives.
The second rule is to not be so hard on oneself and to set realistic, short term goals. In my case, that means staying away from the scale on a daily basis and to "forgive" myself in a dietary way of speaking. The short term goals are easier to keep and pay off in spades later.
The third rule is to eat that first meal of ones day, breakfast, like a king. In other words, this should be my main meal of the day. My mid day meal should not be quite so large. My final end of my day meal should be small, perhaps half of the breakfast sized meal. All meals in my day should, with healthy snacks equal out to 5-6 small meals a day or this 3 meal with perhaps 1-2 healthy snacks in between meals. I'm still working on this rule. I work nights, so my sleep cycles flip flop. Some days I will sleep almost all the day away and my breakfast will be at 4pm, lunch at 1 am, and dinner at 5 or 6 am. Some days I'll actually stay up to get things done and actually be awake for almost 24 hours straight through.
The fourth rule is portion size. This means fist sized portions and no going back for seconds. An addendum to this rule is to load up a plate with only half of what one would normally load on ones plate. Am still working on this rule also.
The fifth rule is nothing in excess, this is clear and across the board. Moderation in everything.
The sixth rule is 2-3liters of water a day, everyday. No more than 4 cups of coffee and/or tea in a 24 hour period. No carbonated drinks, Juices in small amounts, still working on that amount part. Limited alcohol intake to an absolute minimum.
The seventh rule my "white rule" no or almost no "white" in my diet. This means salt, sugar, flour, bread, etc. I have not added salt to my food for many years now, I opt for herbs, spices, garlic powder and such. Should I use salt, it is coarse sea salt in a grinder, the same goes for my pepper. Brown rice instead of white rice if possible. wheat or whole grain bread instead of white bread.
The eighth rule is the "keep it fresh rule", this means little if any refined, processed, canned foods. Difficult to keep this rule but substitute frozen or fresh vegetables and fruits for the canned processed stuff. You will notice a significant improvement in the flavor of your food.
The ninth rule is stay away from salad dressings, mayo, yellow mustard, and such. Try to keep it to vinagaretes, olive oil with herbs, honey, dijoun mustard. Easy once you start, once again, the flavor of your foods will improve dramatically.
The tenth rule is balance, low amounts of fatty foods, more fruits and vegetables and grains, moderate protein and dairy intake, common sense stuff.
Apply these rule to anything that goes near your mouth and see what happens. I'm still a work in progress regarding these rules. One of these days I'll get my shit together.