the story of the washing machine.

I have a story to tell.  I don't know if anyone listens still, but I'll tell my story, nonetheless.  It's been a winding and unwinding sort, one with apparent romance and one with deception and hatred.  It has caused me to question my existence and the sort of soul I am transpiring into....or should I say inspiring into.  And it all has to do with one simple, and I do mean simple, washing machine. 

You see, I'm 29 years old and I'm changing my whole lifestyle.  I've entered into some sort of season of the soul that makes me ask 'why' about everything that seems fickle and fake.  I think it's a mid-life crisis.....which technically I'm not at my mid-life.  But, I guess I shall not assume I know the number of my days, either.  I've thought long and hard about this.  I've actually been thinking about this over the last 8 years.  Questioning the things people call life, and discarding the ones that actually reek of death.  And, believe me there is plenty of "life-protecting" things we've decided to create in our man-made brilliance, thinking we were outsmarting our Creator, and it has done nothing but make life more sterile.  Well, it's sucked the life right out of us.  It's like dry crusty boogers lining the inner cavity of your nose all the way down into the deep crevices of your bronchial tubes.  That's how dried out and limp a lot of things have become in this present age.  No, now don't take me the wrong way.  I'm not "giving up" this present age, I can't do that anymore then I can cut my nose off of my face.  I'm at peace knowing I am in such a time as this.  But, a lot of the "you do this, and then you do that, and then that, and then buy this, and that, and forget about that...." in life is getting flushed down the traditional flushing stool for me.

That's the philosophical side of it all.  A brief summary of the past 8 years (college graduation into the "real world" era) and the places my brain has contemplated deep and hard.  I wasn't always sure why I questioned so much of it.  Perhaps I value truth far, far too deep in my core to disconnect from it in any small fiber at all.  But, I have finally realized, through a slow process, that I'm not so weird or crazy or stupid to think that, "There is a different way of doing life."  And lots of ragtag souls dance down the road ahead of me and aside.

Oh, this is turning into too long of a story without the point of the story.  But, I will say one last statement as I preface the 'washing machine'.  My husband and I have decided to "homestead".  We are planning to buy a piece of land....perhaps even in the next few weeks.  We plan to construct our own home (with a little help from our friends....who know very much what they are doing:) using all recycled, reclaimed, free, and on-site timber.  We plan to employ a completely alternative way of "septice sewage" disposal system*meow*.  We may or may not have traditional electricity, and if we do it will be what we can afford to pay for with cash.  We plan to catch our rain off our roof and enjoy some of the purest water you might find around these parts.  And, then learn to grow, seed, weed and harvest the fruits of our land and labor.  Our home will be quiet, with much of the lame distractions of life eliminated and will will dance often.  Might even breed and bore children there.  This will all cost us less then our little home in town.  We will probably become mortgage-free in a few short years (actually we'll be able to pay for the house itself with cash, the land may get paid off with equity even sooner then the 'few years'). We aren't rich either, just in case you wondered.  This will open the door to deeper quietude of the soul, of the reasons of eternity, and of our greater dependence on a God-made system of life.   And, we'll break out of a system that enslaves it's victims easily.  And, eventually seems to suck the life and talents and dreams right out of them.

The Washing Machine

So, I sold our washer and dryer as we move in this direction.  Starting where we can.  I had advertised on craigslist.com that I was looking to buy a hand-wringing, non-electric washing machine and wanted to buy one much cheaper then the "going" rate.  (With minimal electrical power one needs as many things as possible to be non-electric).  I didn't think anyone would really have much to say about that.  Not so 'hip', ya know.  I've thought long and hard about it, though.  I actually think it'll work better then our electric system we had.  I'll actually wash clothes and have cleaner clothes....and bigger biceps.But, one night out of the blue this older fellow called me and told me exactly where I could find them and so many other treasures for this simple-styled life.  He never even gave me his name, but he gave me the name of the fellow who had them.  Hundreds of them!  I called him many, many times.  He never answered.  I didn't even know his name.  The hope seemed kindof dim.  Finally I got him on the phone and felt I needed to say it all fast before I'd loose him again.  He gave me short, hurried answers.  Excited about his way of life and "getting out of it all" years ago.  He was a busy old man who must have not liked talking on a cell phone.  He would then hang up on me.  I'd call back and pull a few more details out, and then he'd hang up again.  And again, and again.  I was half-annoyed with the fellow and thought "How rude, and I want to do business with him!"  But, he was the only one around with this sort of stuffs.  He wasn't necessarily mean, just an abrupt old man.  He did tell me he'd be in my neck of the woods doing a show for the Amish people.  He said he'd be in the "fairgrounds" of this certain small town.  No directions and not really a definitive date.  But, we went ahead and sold our washer and dryer the day before we'd meet him.  We drove to the little town and drove all over the little town trying to find a fairgrounds, or trying to find an old man with washing machines.  Nothing.  Nobody had heard of any of it.  I even called the mayor of the little small town.

So, I called him when I got home and asked "Where are you, we can't find you.  I thought you were coming."  He said, "Well, my wife died two days ago and I'm going to her funeral."  I said, "Oh, I'm really sorry.......... Uh."  Then he hung up on me again.  I mean, what do you do?  Do you allow someone a week or two to grieve before you start asking them menial questions again.  Do you wait 3 months or more?  We waited a few weeks, and I really wanted to pass the buck off to my husband, but then I awkwardly tried to call him again.  I did need a washing machine, and he was the only one who had them.  He answered the phone and said, "Yea, I'm at a show in Colorado selling my machines.  I'm going to be in Columbia in a week or two.  I'll personally stop by your house and show you what I've got on the truck."  I was glad I called and didn't wait the 3 months or so.  I still knew I'd need to remind him adequately so I didn't miss my chance again, though. 

Four days before the Columbia washing machine sale, I called him up to ask when he'd stop by.  A woman answered and then a fellow and I asked, "Is Billy there?"  I received the response of,

"He died a few days ago." 

"What!  That seems so sudden!", was what came out of my mouth.  "Didn't his wife just die as well?", I wanted to know if that really was a true part of the story.  "Yeap, she died 2 weeks ago.  He just didn't wake up from his sleep one night.  I'm his nephew." 

It really affected me.  How strange that he just kept going with business as usual, but as soon as he stopped to rest his body just died as if part of it had already been cut off.  What causes this sort of death?  Is it deep love and adherence?  Will this happen to me someday?It was so strange that I got to peripherally see this last bit of his life. 

I said I was sorry and didn't want to be inappropriate, but still needed to buy a washing machine.  The nephew said to call back after Friday, after they read the will to see who got what.  He was pretty sure he'd inherit it all.

So, I just got off the phone with him.  This is what made me decide to put the story on Xanga today.  He said they read the will, and in his own words:  "That man, I didn't get a f***** thing, instead that sister of mine, that b****, excuse my language, got it all.  And I was the one who took care of them all these years and made sure their Christmas's were nice and took them places and all that.  She got it all.  She's a b****.  She got the whole 6 million dollars."

"Was he really well off or something?  It seemed he lived a very frugal, simple lifestyle [I don't think he had electricity himself, he even had spoke of a non-electric car that cost $2500 to buy]."  I said.

"Yea, he did live a very simple, frugal life.  That's why he had 6 million dollars in the bank.  He had 8-9 storage buildings full of these kind of machines and such.  He had a Corvette from every year they were made starting in 1984 [I know nothing about Corvettes or if I heard this number correctly].  And, now she'll get it all, and I hope her stupid children enjoy it."

"Man," I said, "I'm sorry.  That's hard.  I don't know what would have happened."

"You're telling me, sweetheart.  I'll take your number down and give it to the b****.  I don't know what she'll do with it all.  She already bought a Hummer.  Nice talking to you, sweetheart."

And that's where the story of the washing machine stops for now.  Will more unfold from the Billy W. estate?  Will I still receive a washing machine eerily at my front door?  How will my clothes get clean?  We're running out of towells already.  But, in conclusion, the underwear stockpile is still in shape.

The End. 

Should I write or not?  Honestly I don't really feel like writing on here ever again.  However, today I am quite bored and my responsibility includes sitting in an office and looking productive.  Hmm, perhaps I'll write.  Sounds like an idea.  I don't know what I want to say here, though.  I kindof had a song to sing, though.  It's called "Geo", sung to the tune of some classical piece of music I do not know the name of.  Um hmm:

Gggggggggeo, ggggggggeo, ggggggggggggeggeggeo.  Gggggggeo!  Ggggggggggeeo!  Gggggeogggeogggeo,ggeo.

Because I now am the proud driver of a 1992 Geo Metro.  I feel like a pre-teen, adolescent again, just like I was in 1992!  Whooo hoo!  It is so totally funny how things in life make us feel important or secure or "having it together".  I am the kindof person who will desperately search for a way to live differently in this world.  In May of this year I was ready to sell everything we had so I could afford the life that I really want.  Not that I don't like the husband/friends/family part of my life, but the WORK part of my life has left much to be desired and MUCH to be questioned of God and my purpose for existing while here on earth.  Those are really big questions, just in case you've never really had to ask them and can't relate or something.  So, I was willing to live in a tent to do what I was meant and made by my Creator to do.  Sounds crazy, I know, but I'm a wildly passionate person who is quite sane in actuality.  Who cares about high society.....heck, that's not even an issue.  How about society in general........and all the things we've defined as success, security and image.  I'll flush the American dream down the toliet any day of the week, believe me, I'm learning how.  [At this point I'm sure someone will argue with me *hmm, hmmm, Matt or Mike's of the world* the necessity of society and needing it in order for things to operate and I would agree with them, but I'm talking about a layer of unnecessary society that we are fed to believe that we NEED.  And we don't, really.]

So, anyways, we wanted a car that got no less then 45mpg's and didn't want to pay $20,000 dollars we didn't have for it.  So, Gggggggeo, is her name.  I didn't have a clue I was about to learn some sort of bigger lesson here.  I have had NICE cars from the time I hit the pavement on wheels.  Cadillac-like style was the name of my game (don't laugh anyone who knew my Pontiac Bonnevile.....it WAS stylish), I once stated that a Bentley was my dream car.  Leather interior always.....I'm sure at some point in my life I boldly declared that "I will always have leather interior"....it is pretty important to me, power everything, cruise-control, c.d. player, keyless entry......you name it, I've had it.  When we went to test drive the Geo I changed my mind.  It smelled like mouse pee, the dash had a crack in it, and it was......plain, dirty, and *duh* no leather interior.  It had the major important things and necessities that make a good car a good car, but not the plush-element.  It's cute.....it's the color of my eyes....I've never had a fun looking car like that.  It sounds like a motorcycle revving down the road, and now it smells like coffee after I got through with it.  But, still, when I see people I wonder if they think I am "poor" or "less successful in life" now because I drive a simple little car.  We make these assumptions of people all the time.  I must have been, anyways.  It's strange.  Who says a car makes you something you aren't, though?  Who says a car takes away from something you truly are?  I'm making a lot of decisions in life right now that are drastically changing the way we live in this culture.  I feel the opposition sometimes, will feel it some more, but am strangely......okay with it.  I think it's taking me down some more narrow path that is sure a lot more exciting then the free-way.  I even built my own toliet stool this summer.  It is a cutie in and of itself.....I estimated it to have cost me $32.20.  That will be our sewage system, but don't tell anyone who won't understand!  When I said "flush" the American dream, I even was talking about actual flushers.  But, you'll have to learn more about that topic on your own, look this book up "The Humanure Handbook" ® you'll see what I mean.  But, back to Geo, I might even paint her.  As in one of those cars that looks like a hippy owns it.  I'm not a hippy, but for some reason I'm that terribly expressive that the idea of painting my car sounds fun.  Peter told me what kind of paint to use....he's the hippy I met this summer that painted his truck.....um, I mean, oh well.  They think they've pegged me.  I have some really cool ideas thought up for it.  Oh, we'll see.  He he he heh e.

There isn't just one way to do this life. 

by all means, speak......

I guess I have many things to share.  All stuff that is very, very close to my heart, I suppose.....and perhaps that's why I haven't made it a priority to share.  I've come upon a year where my heart has become more vulnerable and more daring all at once.  I don't just lay all out before all, anymore, and I'm not sure that I have any strong belief that I must anymore.  I mean, why?  This finds me at a point where I'm "leary" of others.  I might share all the goodies of the deeper parts of me and you might just go "Oh...."  Or you might lash out at me there.  Or you might laugh, you might shun me, you might write me off forever.....you might find me a little too "out there" for you anymore.  You might claim how you'll "pray for me and be there forever and ever for me....", and then tomorrow you'll be gone.  I've found the flakiness of people to be too flakey for me lately.  I need something to grab ahold of.  Strangely, and this is going to sound almost controversial, some of my new-age, non-God believing friends have been some of the most compassionate and understanding of me lately.  I don't say that to be a slam at anyone, I haven't really made much effort to let everyone in to have much chance.  But, I found it amazing how much compassion some of these "hippified" people have shown me.  Now, does this make me conclude that God is any less and I should trust Him none the more.....NO......it just makes me conclude that it is not what a person SAYS they are that really shows me or proves me anything.....it is WHO they really are revealed to be.  We all need Christ, we all need this relationship, but this does not make the ones who know Him any better then the ones who don't.  Oh, a truth many Christians just are sometimes (arrogant) about. 

I was crying and feeling the "beat" that I have swung through often, lately, and as I lay on my bed I asked God if I could conclude that He could be as compassionate (MORE compassionate) and understanding then my hippy, new-age friends.  I'm pretty sure I heard Him say 'yes, of course', He is even more.  That was comforting to my heart.  Sometimes I hear the voice of God sounding more like the strict voices of my parents (not that their voices are bad), or He starts to sound like the All-American, all-purpose, do-gooder, do, do, do, A plus, responsible, reasonable, practical god of our "Christian culture"........that might not REALLY be who HE is at all!

I get those voices confused.  But, if my new-age, tarrot-card reading, psychic, herbal healing friend can tell that I'm hurting and can see I need something refreshing and enlivening for my spirit...........then surely God can see much more.  He wouldn't look at me and say, "Well, Mary, suck it all in, put up with it, and "just be thankful", quit your belly-aching".  I don't know, maybe you believe God speaks like this.  It's just when you've got some really big wound sitting on your heart.....and you don't really know why it's that big or how it got that way, the last way you need ANYONE to speak to you.....is like that.  So, God is MORE.  And that whisper, of "yes, I am" was beautiful medicine for me.

So, that's really vague and out there at first.  But, the rest will follow.  Perhaps as little or bunched up or choppy as I wish for it to.  I'm going to Panama June 14-24th with my mom, dad, and Noelle to meet Sarah and have a blast on all the beaches and resorts and rain forests......it will be refreshing and strengthening family time, although sometimes family time can get touchy....I pray it is richer then I believe and we are all kinder then we know possible.  I prayed and prayed and prayed and cried and fought and searched and knocked and prayed for an answer for a change of work for myself.  I've been in a rut, I don't like feeling washed up and slightly resigned, and it's hurting my health and I'm a little depressed.  So, God answered!  I needed that.  I will be taking a leave of absence of 2 whole months from this mundane place of a refridgerated box and Chad and I will be taking an adventure.  Halleleujah.  We will WORK FOR FOOD AND HOME.  Yea, we'll be homeless!  We are going to participate in two-3 work-exchange programs.  One will be in Roosevelet Arizona in the Superstition Mountains (I'm drawn to hippies and new-age believing sorts....but I choose to remain in the Truth) on the Reevis Mountain Ranch.  "Bigfoot" is the guy who runs the joint and they have an organic orchard and specialize in herbs and natural healing.  They are "off-the-grid" and you have to walk or drive a truck about 7 miles to even get back to where they live.  There will be no phone access or computer.  We will work hard like endentured servants and we will get some of the finest, gourmet vegetarian/vegan/whole food meals and a fine Yurpee to sleep in (that's a yurt and teepee combined).  We will brave scorpions and mountain lions and really, really hot weather.  We will learn about this farming way of life and specifically the "orchard" way.....Chad dreams to have an orchard someday.  We will also see what it's like (firsthand) to live "off-the-grid".  We will make friends and tell stories and hear some doozies and learn what they believe and they will learn what we believe.  We will share life, and we will share Christ, my hope.  We might also see the Grand Canyon. Then Chad's going to go on a race down the Missouri River on a kayak.  He's only kayaked about half a dozen times in his life, so far, but he's getting more prepared and he always searches for a challenge.  I will be his ground crew for those 4 days and I will provide food and shelter from the 'storm', I suppose.  I really don't like the idea of him going down that nasty river with dead bodies in the bottom, but he's a man and he needs to do these things.  I just hope he's okay.  Oh, dear God!  From there we'll travel to Springfield MO to join an organic farming operation and learn about the vegetable and animal end of things, all the while eating good and sleeping good in the tent out back.  I like the feel and smell of dirt, and I personally like to sweat in the summer, heaven forbid.  I also LOVE, LOVE, LOVE the sound of whipporwhills and toads as I trickle off to sleep and I love my hair to wake to a big frizzy/curly mess.  (Tents do that to you).  My friends Jean and Melany live near there and I will see them often as well.  We will live with somewhat of a community that is being started there.....that "intentional community" kind of stuff.  This will be a half Christian/half agnostic kind of group, which will hold quite the sharpening field as well.  From there Chad will go to St. Louis (and leave me alone in my tent:O and will complete one more doctoral class.  We'll return to home around August 10th or so, and from there I may finish the last few weeks of my LEAVE at another off-the-grid location in Praire Home, MO canning tomatos and maybe helping with a new baby and momma.  I'll be pooping in a compost toliet (it doesn't stink like an outhouse, and it's in-house:) while I'm there and interacting with people that, again, are quite the "hippified" collection.  Again, perhaps I've found my "gutter".  The last week of August I will return to this job, and hopefully return quite refreshed to hit the classrooms in September-December and see what turn the Lord takes me next. 

Some people find this all stupid and "irresponsible".  "Once you are in the 'real' world and [married] you don't do these sorts of things anymore."  You want to know my response, besides "Hogwash!".  It is this:  "This is the 'real' world and there are many different ways of approaching and living and doing in this 'real' world."  That sounds kind of new age itself, doesn't it?  Well, I will confidently say there is only ONE way to Heaven and ONE way to make peace with God and have relationship with Him, but for almost everything else (that isn't addressed clearly in His word) there's a heck of a lot of other approaches out there.  And, I need something refreshing.  To sit in this office would be like sitting here drinking rotten milk when I already feel kindof crappy and depressed.  What will rotten milk do for me?  Just make it all worse.  I need to learn new skills, I need to get to the 'element' that I know fits me best.....outside working with my hands and closely with others.  What kind of "career" do you call that?  I'll call it, "Oh well."  No, I'll call it "Gleam in the eyes".  That's a good one.  What am I planning to learn, how will this apply to the "rest of the life".........oh, plenty and it will apply immensely.  If things learned well and I am an eager, hard-working student, what Chad and I could learn this summer could save us thousands and thousands of dollars (that's far more then my 2 months of income is worth!).  Knowledge-wise it the difference between just "reading and thinking" about things, but actually experientially doing them.....which is my best learning style.  It could also be grand eternally, as well.  Shining light on the truth from two kids who are ultimately convinced that Jesus is truly the Way, the Truth, and the Life.   So, that's that in a nut-shell.  I'm responsible and do all the things I know I should, but my heart is breaking and aching for more of this abundant life I've been promised, and daggoneit I'm going to get off my bum and go looking for some.  And I have a heck of a hot husband who is so kind and flexible with me to join me in this adventure.  I hope we grow as lovers can grow deeply together. 

On other notes, we may buy a 50 mpg, older, uglier car then I already have, sell mine and make a profit and stop being one of the mumbling, grumbling griping peeps about gas.  I'll happily drive a "roller-skate".:)  My adrenal glands are very insufficiently functioning right now for some reason, and this is getting us closer to why my hormones and energies are so low.  We might buy a piece of land really soon with a 'river' going through it, today is my Grandpa's birthday, I'm 29 now..........and my dearest, great Aunt Betty died one week ago on Monday.  I still haven't quite swallowed this one.  She was one of my best friends in the whole world.....even though she was 75 and my great aunt.  I think we were kindred spirits, if there is such a thing.  We talked about sex, God, food, love, life, toes, cats, teeth, funerals, family and whatever else came to mind.  I didn't think she'd ever die.  She died suddenly in her home one morning, and 10-12 hours later my husband and I found her.  I did not see.........I couldn't have done that, I didn't want to see.  He had to break into her house, I called 911 from the neighbor's house.  I wasn't ready for HER to die.  All week I would find myself at moments being reminded that SHE was dead, and I would say to myself, "No, not Her.....not her, not Aunt Betty."  I saw her 2 days before she died and she had a swollen ankle, a sign of an approaching heart attack, I didn't know it.  She fed me coleslaw, barbecue chips and cheese.  We talked about rugs, and I gave her a beautiful flower arrangement for her birthday.  She called a couple hours later to say how beautiful it was and to see if I had eaten yet.  We said "bye, love you", and that was that.  Chad was supposed to take her to jury duty on Tuesday.....she did not want to go.... she got a good excuse to miss it for.  We helped her children everyday after that with however we could.  We took a whole lot of trash back to our house so animals wouldn't get into it (hey if that's the only way you can help someone you really loved then you do it as if it's the most noble chore on earth), made food, listened, and I read something at her funeral.  Everyone thought it was beautiful........I think I heard her, in my mind, say "Mary, that was sooooo good."  She always was telling me stuff like that.  Anyways, wow, I'm going to miss her.  Somedays she'd just call me to see what I had eaten that day.  That was about it.  Some day's I'd call her just because I was sad.  I would spend the night with her multiple times in a row when I was a little girl.....I just didn't want to leave.  I loved going places with her, and I even let her listen to my Santana c.d. and we rocked down the highway.....she thought it was nice.  Anyways, wow.  I'll see her again someday.  I just wasn't done with having her to share life with.  She's not tired, anymore, though, and she's no longer weighed down.  She got to toss the towell in on the brokeness and decay of this life and body, I'm glad for her.  If asked if she'd want to come back here, I bet her answer (in her ornery sweetness) would be "Well, hellllllllllll (the word hell in a lower pitched voice) no, Mary."

So, that's that.  I shared anyways, didn't I?  Oh well, I guess I wanted to today.  I would say I'm sorry for the condition I am in currently, but I think I've been saying "I'm sorry" a little too much lately.  I'm just a little broken, just a little battered, but it's not because I've stopped living, but that I'm trying to truly live, and truly grow.  And my life isn't all sadness and strife, but there are beautiful joys I am deeply grateful for, and God is to be glorified no matter what this lowly servant might say or feel.  And there is a hope and a future and victory and pleasure in Him for me.....and you.  Amen, and amen.     

a post of no resolutions.

I'm having trouble figuring some things out.  It's a culmination of things.  I have to be at work right now, so I have to look at it where I'm at.  And I'm not so sure this is the best place to look at this over, but I'll try a little.  You know it is one's first inclination to "talk about it" when you have it fresh on your mind.  I could talk to God about it, but I kindof feel like I have talked a thousand times before.....He's listening now as well.  God certainly does listen, I'll believe nothing less, but I still haven't figured out how to listen, it seems.  I guess I must try harder. 

Try harder, and harder, and harder.  But, I'm not sure I have much strength left in me to try so much harder.  Sometimes I am trying so hard, somewhere....I'm not always even sure where....and I feel so tired for the trying. 

I don't know what has happened.  I know it's spiritual, I know it's emotional, and I know it's physical......but where do I go? What do I "tackle" first?  I've tried physical over and over and over and spent money and money and money......and I feel no stronger then before.  But, again, I know it is physical.  I'm trying emotional, but then I feel too strong to really "need" that and think it would better serve her to serve more needy people then I.  I try spiritual, I think, but apparently I'm not trying hard enough.  Why is life so hard?  I'm breaking, I want fixed, but I don't know how to be fixed.  I don't know where to go to be fixed.  Yea, everybody says "Go to God and He'll fix you."  I understand this, in theory, but after trying and trying and trying to "go to God", I'm not fixed. 

And it doesn't help that our society is so lonely.  We are so individualistic, we rarely know each other.  I mean, really know each other.  And now I can't take itallics off so everything will be especially emphasized.  Maybe it is best that way.  We have a Church we attend, they are all so kind, but I do not wish to share my concerns there.  I can't just share these thoughts never to have them addressed again.  Or to just have them addressed in passing "How are you today?  How is "that" in your life today?"  That doesn't really give enough time.  And I don't just want to always be on the "prayer request list", what good does that do?  Who prays for those requests....really? 

Sometimes I just like closeness, and touch and love.  The other day I had a tick bite that got infected inside my belly button (maybe this is the source of my current sickness....who knows?).  It was pretty infected and itchy and blistered from the scratching.  So, I showed my grandma and she doctored it for me.  Yea, that sounds childish to some, foolish to others, but I really savored that.  Is that weird?  I liked that she touched me and cared for me and, in essence, was loving on me.  I think we live in a place where people crave this so deeply that they'll find excuses to be touched over. (Sometimes when I teach kindergarteners and I wear my moccassin boots the kids on the front row will touch my shoes.  I feel as if I should say "Now, keep your hands to yourself, that is not mannerly.", but I don't.  Sometimes I wear those shoes so I will be touched.  And I'm not weird like this, this is human).    Some days, not all, when my husband comes home I just want him to touch me and touch me and touch me.  Just simply, no frills.  If that's all we did all evening I'd be okay with that.  I'd even forego eating.  Why am I in especial need?  Love and touch and closeness go a long ways towards healing.

I don't know how to connect it all.  Today what I write is no work of especial art, itallics and all.  It's just coming out in pieces.  It's physical today, but the physical pulls the emotional and spiritual with it.  They cannot be disentangled.  We'll blame her today, though. 

Oh, I don't know.  This didn't work.  I do not wish to unleash all that has poked it's head out today.  There is a limit to that self-disclosure.  I just want freedo.... I'll just take food for now.  God you see it all, there's no need for limiting self-disclosure there.  Please do something.  Please kiss me.  Please doctor my tick bites and touch me and love on me.  And show me and tell me and touch my shoes and touch my hair and hold my hand and........I need it........................I really need it.