A Step Forward…

Today I finally called a place that offers counseling. My first appointment is tomorrow!!

I’m divided between being excited and sad. My thoughts are: I should not have to go for counseling because of another person. Why don’t THEY go and fix themselves? But then I stop and think and tell myself how silly of me. I am doing this for me, myself and I. For no one else!! I want to be happy again. Back to the old way: happy and always smiling! I need to find that smile again!

I will let you know how things are progressing!!

My Lighthouse

Sometimes my life is dark, empty, and foreboding
Like a ship in the night out at sea
But you are there for me
You are the tower of strength that I rely on.
Sometimes I'm sad and alone
Like the captain at the wheel, wanting to be home
But you are there for me
You shine your bright light for me to reach out to
Sometimes I'm confused, not sure what to do
Like the seaman who looses his way in the fog
But you are there for me
Your voice tells me the right direction.
Sometimes life is as rough as the uncaring sea
It causes panic, frustration, and despair
But you are there for me
A quiet entity on the edge of a rugged cliff.
You are my beacon, my lighthouse.

Against All Odds…

I love looking at pictures….so many stories to tell just by looking at them. This one is one of my favorites and I titled it ‘Against All Odds’



It's been three days since the huge blowup. I'm scheming and the little wheels in my head won't stop turning. But that’s good! I have bought a few storage boxes today. I was able to take the car and took the chance. There is not  much to pack...actually I have nothing but a few clothes and my laptop. But I don't need more.

My plan is to stay at a hotel first and from there I can find a place to live. I could not do that around him.

I am also planning on getting some therapy. I am broken and can’t fix it myself anymore.  Usually I was able to always get myself back – always full of optimism. Enough to give me strength. That optimism is still there, but very weak. It’s going to be tough to find a good therapist. One  you can connect with. But again, I am optimistic it will all work out at the end.

Thank you to my wonderful Plurk friends. You know, I have no real friends here in Canada. No one to confide in and get advise from. This is when you come in. I am amazed by all the support I’ve been getting. It has helped me immensely to figure out things. Thank you!!

I have moved my blog (temporarily)

I have moved my blog temporarily as I am having issues with uploads and plug-ins on this one. I am still not able to figure out why. But I will continue to research!
I will let you know of the new link once I post again!

How Miners Talk About Death

 

 

Tyler Stableford / Getty Images The disaster at West Virginia’s Upper Big Branch mine put the spotlight on a world you only think about when tragedy strikes. Jeanne Marie Laskas on how the men in the pits live with risk.

“Kill one a day and they don’t give a shit, just don’t kill two or three at a time,” said Foot, a coal miner I know. It’s crazy, he said, like, one coal miner gets crushed and maybe it makes the local paper, but a few get buried and suddenly it’s a worldwide media sensation. (Another bunch of dumb blonde newscasters on the TV saying stupid stuff and looking upset.) What is with you people? That’s what coal miners think of all of us staring at them like zoo animals whenever there’s coal miner news, which, let’s face it, is only when there’s a big, horrific accident like the massive blast last Monday at the Upper Big Branch mine in West Virginia that killed 25. Do people not realize what coal miners do? Do people not realize that coal miners live with this crap every day?

Every ride back up the elevator is a testament to who you are. One of the lucky ones. Jesus H. Christ, you’re alive.

At the Hopedale mine, in eastern Ohio, the elevator plunged without ceremony 500 feet into the earth and then we all laid flat in a little car, a “mantrip,” that clattered and clunked along into the tunnel of coal, a half hour in, a couple of miles in and away from the shaft. The darkness was complete, total, utter, until a pinpoint of light from a hardhat reminded you of life, of people, and how much you loved both. This was our everyday commute to work, for me just for a few months while I researched their world, for the crew 10 hours a day, six days a week.

Foot, Hook, Smitty, Pap, all the guys had stories of guys dying. “Yeah, Sammy got covered up,” was the way they casually referred to it. Or, “When did Jimmy get crushed? Was that two years ago or three now?” Dying is sad, of course, but, well, hello? Dying is the inevitable outcome of living. In a coal mine you constantly realize things like that.

People say, “Oh, how do they mentally prepare for the danger?” Or, “How do they learn to cope with the death of their brethren?” to which a coal miner will reply, “Jesus H. Christ, get over yourself.” Coal miners are busy, constantly moving, each crew a choreography advancing into the coal, chewing it with their machines, scooping it, hauling it in frantic little buggies. You watch “the top,” or roof, above the guy in front of you and he watches the top in front of him, and everyone worries every minute about it caving in. Yeah, pretty much every minute. You check your methane detector to find out what the earth is bleeding and how much actual air there is to breathe and you know that the slightest, smallest spark, metal against metal, can mean—fwoom!—the end. Each scoop of coal is a reach into the unknown, a place no human has ever been, like the moon, like Mars, and so anything can happen. Anything. You think about your safety and the safety of your crew—every minute of every shift—you really do, and you don’t curse the boss, or the union, or the company with all their safety laws, you don’t think any of the rules are bullshit because you know every law is written in blood. A guy died, or a guy got his leg chopped off, and that’s why there’s the law.

And listen, every time a person above ground flips a light switch he burns a lump of coal. So yeah, we need people in coal mines digging coal. And stop with the pity party. These guys haven’t been sentenced to the coal mines. They have chosen this life. And stop with the romance. They don’t love coal mining. They hate coal mining. You try it. The Hopedale mine was five feet high inside, meaning that none of the guys could actually stand up. You try working your whole day doing a duck walk. Pap can tell you about working in a 36-inch coal seam, crawling on his belly, putting roof bolts in so the thing wouldn’t collapse, every day for years.

Nor is coal mining some cultural expression of some family values bullshit—oh, I’m walking in my daddy’s footsteps so my fat wife can weep along with the country music songs piped in up at the Super Wal-Mart. No. Just… no. And it is most certainly not about some dopey urge to play the hero and fuel America. There is no ego in coal mining, or at least not that kind. Coal mining is a damn good paying job—60, 70, 80 grand a year—that “just sorta sticks to you after a while,” as Scotty put it. “You keep surviving shit and pretty soon that’s just who you are.” A survivor. It keeps you going down for more. It’s a high. Every ride back up the elevator is a testament to who you are. One of the lucky ones. Jesus H. Christ, you’re alive. You take the metal tag with your name on it off the pegboard, glance at the tags sill hanging. Those guys are still down there. You go to the bathhouse, strip naked, and soak.

Jeanne Marie Laskas is the author of five books, including her newest, Growing Girls (Bantam Dell, 2006), the award-winning The Exact Same Moon (Bantam Dell, 2003), and Fifty Acres and a Poodle (Bantam Dell, 2000). A professor in the creative writing program at the University of Pittsburgh, she lives with her husband and two daughters at Sweetwater Farm in Scenery Hill, Pennsylvania.

Achoooo...

I am usually in very good health and when I get a cold, I just deal with it. Sometimes I have to go to the doctor to get antibiotics for my chronic bronchitis. But that's about it..no biggie.
Well this time it hit me like a freight train and there was nothing I could do or even the doctor. He diagnosed a viral infection and taking antibiotics would make things just worse.
I've been out of work since Thursday. All I can do is sleep and more sleep. I wish I had someone to take care of me...pamper me. Instead I get no sympathy whatsoever and I had to schlepp myself wherever I had to go to get things. (Yes I am whining for once...and I won't stop. If you don't like it...please stop reading now...kthxbai)
I know why I got so sick....I am weak from all the stress, heartache, arguing....

Yesterday evening was the first time in two days I logged on to my computer. To my friends who cared about my well being...thank you for thinking of me. It means a lot!

Oh and please meet my mates: Halls, Otrivin, Strepsils, Polysporin, Cepacol and Puffs:



Again I am thankful for being in good health and don't need to depend on others to move around....what would I do? But that's a whole other chapter to talk about!

For my Rainbow friend...may you be happy...always!

You bring your love to my life
Through all my tears and my strife

You're always giving and easy.
You took me to the seventh heaven with your true love.
I feel that only you can heal the emptiness I've known

Your open door will show the way to truth.

Straight from your heart
light in the dark

The gift of your love shines on
straight from your heart.

When days are dreary and blue I turn my faith unto you

You give me hope for tomorrow.
Your morning star will shine unto my soul forever.
This gift of love you gave to me
was just a dream before

I can't hold back this love I feel for you.

Straight from your heart
light in the dark
...
Straight from your heart
light in the dark
...

This gift of love you gave to me was just a dream before

I can't hold back this love I feel for you.

Straight from your heart
light in the dark
...

No Tears Anymore

Where do I go from here who wants an easy chance
shoulder to cry upon nights but go on, on and on

I’m all alone tonight no one to care inside
yesterday’s far away and doom is here to stay

No, no
No tears anymore
and I can’t love you...I love you
can’t love you no more
I’ve got no tears anymore
and I can’t love you...I love you
can’t love you no more

Here I go on my way I’m not afraid to say
I’m leaving you for sure. I’m walking out the door

No, no
No tears anymore
and I can’t love you...I love you
can't love you no more
I’ve got no tears anymore
and I can’t love you...I love you
can't love you no more

I’m moving out with the sun
I’m riding high with the wind moving on, moving on

No, no
No tears anymore
and I can’t love you...I love you
can't love you no more
I’ve got no tears anymore
and I can’t love you...I love you
can't love you no more

Adam

Originally uploaded by Jennifer Esperanza {Mahita}

All I can say is: *YUMMY*!!!

Wide Open Spaces...

Today I visited my lovely fellow Plurker Tori. What lovely company she is and I wish we weren't living that far from each other for a coffee or some tea more often!
But then again, I do not mind the drive up North. It's beautiful, so different from this ugly city I call my temporary home. Out here I can breath again and a heavy weight is lifted off my shoulders!
Going there I took the highway but coming back I took every possible back road. Stopped a few times on the side of the road to enjoy the view of the farms. You might ask: did you take pictures...No I did not. I forgot my camera...like so many times. *sigh*

I love farm houses very much. And I come to find that the ones here in Canada are pretty similar to the ones in Germany which gives it an extra special touch! Except this funky looking one which is right by Lake Huron:



I passed by many beautiful horses, baby moo-cows (aka calves - but doesn't it sound much cuter...), llama and sheep.
Today the urge to move on was really big...time to get my butt in gear and my bags packed!

Happy Easter to everyone!!