After Heather's post

Since Heather has gotten completely out of social media, she has used my platforms to get her "fix" so I decided that I should post something to keep my hand in.

I'm not sure how getting rid of the internet will work out.  I'm hoping to keep it in the "other" room - basically storage for stuff we want out of sight.  I'll need to clean the room out [something I've talked about since I moved in with Heather] so I can actually sit at the desk and work on my laptop.  I'm also hoping that we can continue to use Netflix (I'm sort of hooked on it), but since we're getting cable again, we won't need HuluPlus.

I feel really bad about not understanding Heather's problem with social media.  The deeper she got into her holiday depression and the more she looked into getting something going to earn money, the further apart we drifted.  Because she lives so much in her head, not really sharing that with me, I'm going to have to be more inquisitive about what's going on inside.  I want to get a better routine set up, everything from meals and exercise to sleep patterns and intellectual stimulation.  We both could use the support a good routine can supply, but I know she would really benefit from it.

My love is up and so we will go visiting friends!

Tax the Internet

Hi, it's me Heather. I asked Barbara if I could write something on her Blogger page and she said yes I could as long as I identify myself .

I am terribly embarassed and ashamed of myself at the moment. It is not an unfamiliar feeling. I understood that social media was dangerous, I had no idea how dangerous it would feel to me personally or how dangerous I could become to other people.I have spent most of my adult life trying to be less dangerous and more successful.Every moment that I have almost become ready to try again I get pulled up short by a serious error on my part or on someone elses. And the humiliation that comes with the repeated failures has built up over time. I am bitter. I resent other people's success, especially people in my generation who have figured out how to sell themselves and their character to win at politics.

Barbara has agreed, grudgingly, to pull the internet from the house. I have been asking for that to happen for at least 6 months. Before we got married I didn't want internet in my house. I view it as an intrusion, not unlike any media purveyor.I am comfortable with cable television, I understand how to control it. Unfortunately, it is not the same with so-called social media. My experience with people who are extremely interested in extra marital relationships was frightening. These people were every where I turned on the internet, it seemed to me.

When Google came to town and ripped my community off so clearly, I figured the powers that be had collaborated with a major fortune 500 company to screw a small geographic area to benefit a larger population further away. Further west of here it becomes more populated with all kinds of quick buck characters. Then when you go past Portland towards the coast you run into a slightly moldy version of what I deal with every day. The concentrated population in the metro area has caused this problem and now they are going to have to clean it up and pay the piper.

Taxes are going to go up. Way way up. From what I have seen, personal internet sexual services are the #1 service sold. Well then tax it! Regulate it! This shit aint free. And neither are the people who get harmed.

My point is the internet is harmful, social media sites exists to sell Ashley Madison ads and everyone should stay off twitter.

The president needs to stop doing what his advisors tell him and start listening to his wife's advice. I would of voted for Michelle Obama in a second. Betrayal would be the correct term I feel for every single Democrat who serves in local state or federal politics. I will not vote for Hillary Clinton, no one in my family will. Although my Dad thinks that decision has already been  made. We are all big fans of Elizabeth Warren.

No worries here, we made it. I will struggle on, quietly, trying to not hurt people or myself anymore.  The coming year is going to have a slight economic improvement but it will not shake down to the level where I or most of the people I actually know live. The press and general media will become pre occupied with improvement and progress but I assure you very little will change for us. We will not go hungry or homeless, just stuck on the margins and feeling increasingly threatened. Not by other real people mind you, the notion that the powers that be don't even know we are here, that we don't exist.

My wife has been after me to keep this blog up, but since I've been reading about blogs on Google+, I realize that I don't really know what I'm doing.  It's put me off adding another post. But I know that some others have been reading it, so I'll just have to work out my blogging problems as I go.

My main concern is that I haven't created why I'm blogging.  I was thinking of this as an online diary, mainly for myself, but something that others in my situation might find helpful.  Now I realize I ought to have a definite point of view to anchor my posts, something people will look for when they come here to read what I've written.

As a library person, I've been following a couple of blogs and I think I'm starting to understand what it's about.  One that I read almost daily is The Clerk Manifesto.  I like it a lot because I'm living a similar work life, and can really appreciate the postings.  I recognize the situations and people described.  The posts can make me laugh or shake my head - but I do connect.  I could go that way.

There are so many things I could focus on.  I titled this "View from the trailer park," just thinking it was a little clever and catchy.  Thinking about what I mean by that, I realize I could go almost anywhere: class divide, financial divide [not the same thing!], non-urban, communities, lots of things.

Then there is my marriage.  As two women "married" in Oregon who recieved a death threat when we announced our domestic partnership in my hometown paper, I might have something to write about.  We still feel the "eye darts" when walking hand-in-hand in local grocery parking lots.  We have become adept at seeing the startled looks out of the corners of our eyes.  We like to think we engender conversations something like, "Martha!  You'll never guess what I saw in the parking lot of Safeway!  The Lesbians!"  This could be something people might be interested in following.

Or I could write about what it's like to be married to someone 17 years younger than myself.  And since I'm 63, this could be, and is, an important component in our relationship.  Interesting, but probably not enough to continue writing about.

Politics and religion are always interesting to people, no matter what they say.  Both my wife and I are faithful people - we go to church almost every Sunday, with my wife also attending a second service at another denomination.  We are politically liberal and try to put both our politics and religion to use in the service of humanity.  We've staffed the temporary shelter in our community, helped out at Community Meals multiple times, and my wife shows up in front of the post office with signs when she feels so moved.  We have followed the Bradley/Chelsea Manning case, Wikileaks, Snowden, and other such news by daily views of Democracy Now, The Majority Report, and The Young Turks.  My wife is in the comment streams of the last two and I'm proud of her voice in those venues.  She has made a difference there,

But probably what will end up being the major focus will be dealing with my wife's mental issues.  We are struggling to find a way to have a life that offers her some sort of fulfillment and satisfaction.  As with many, she has multiple diagnoses: attachment disorder, sensory integration disorder, post-traumatic stress disorder, borderline ADHD, and extreme social anxiety.  Yesterday, she received her denial from Social Security for disability status.  It hit her hard, even though she had expected it.  I let her cry, because I knew she would no matter what I did.  Then I checked the web and called a disability law office to get the ball rolling.  The name I searched was someone who had helped friends get disability, but he has since retired.  Now, there are two women running the office, one of whom was a mental health therapist before she became a lawyer.  My wife is feeling somewhat better about it, but it's still going to be a long haul.

That's about all for now.  I have to get ready to go to town for my therapist appointment [I'm no dummy - I need my own mental health help to keep on an even keel!].

So the view from the trailer park is about many things, for now.  I'll keep working on determining what my view really is.  You will probably be along for the journey, as I know that Peter Elbow is right - writing is thinking.  And I'll be thinking a lot on these posts.

Keep reading!

I haven't written in quite a while.

It's been rough goin', here at the trailer park.

I don't know, but I might have moved out, without leaving the trailer.

My wife has, in the depths of her depression, again decided that it would be best for her to live alone, and requested that I print out and bring home the forms for the dissolution of our domestic partnership.  I said no.  If that is going to happen, and I'm not saying it is, it'll have to be after her situation is set up so that she has the resources to live alone.  

When she snags me in her depression, it's really easy to see that living apart can have very practical applications.  I can understand that my ability to have a life with succesful social contacts and engagement only magnifies the lacks in her life.  I have jokingly sign my messages "your salt," which she loves, or used to love.  I don't think I can use that anymore, because I see myself as salt in the wound of her loneliness.  I only want to help her get out of lonely feelings, not exacerbate them.

We've had lots of bad weather - snow and cold - and while we're relatively warm, have water and power [major problems with the last storm], the tires on our car can't make any purchase on the snow and ice.  Hence, I am relying on the kindess of friends, co-workers and relatives to get us/me to and fro.

It's ironic that tonight I'll be staffing our local shelter.  I'm not sure how I'm going to do that, but it might be that I pass the second half of the night in the staff lounge in the library.  No, the cleaning people come  at night and it'd be weird.  Guess I'll hike up to my borther's and crash there.

My wife is in the middle of another depressive spell.  She has hardly any affect and, as mentioned above, wants to divorce me, for my own good.  I can't imagine not being with her, but I'm so tired of not being able to be of any apparent help, the thought of being somewhere else can be momentarily appealing.  But then I think of her here, trapped, and I'm all confused about my feelings.

I didn't have a session with my counselor on Friday - his mistake.  He called yesterday and said he had time today and tomorrow, but the car thing is a real hinderance.  I'm going to try and see him, though. I really need a steadier head and a trained observer to help me sort everything out.

Finances perpetually suck.  My salery is just not enough for our family.  Unfortunately, my wife's various conditions and disorders only allow her to see what is directly in front of her.  She doesn't do abstraction, and so can't seem to imagine that our conditions will improve.  Hell, she can't even imagine that there's the possibility of improvement.  "I'll die poor and alone!" is sometimes her mantra.  I try not to cry about that, but sometimes I can't stop myself.

I'm getting more and more sleep deprived.  I might actually move into the storageroom to see if that will help me sleep past 5am, which is when my wife gets up and gets dressed.  She's now back in bed, which is fine, as I know sleep resets her mood and cognition a bit.  Sleeping in the storageroom might make things better, but she can be awlfully loud if she pissed, which she seems to be without pause the last day or two.

Oh yes, About my sister.  Even though my wife urged me at least three, if not four, time to call and talk to my sister about coming over to watch television, I didn't.  I didn't call, it caused a problem which involved great declamations and waving of hands, and now my wife will "never go there again!"  That's where all the surface mad has come from, but unfortunately, there's a huge reservoir of mad that can keep that fire going indefinitely.

Tonight will add the problem of possibly seeing Ruthie at the shelter.  She was talking about being able to get a place off the streets when her money came in at the end of last month.  However, I saw her last Thursday in the library all day.  Someone, probably a voluteer for the warming place, came and picked her up shortly before it was to open  for the night.  I will just play it as it comes.

Still not sure how the transportation is going to work out - this weather is beautiful but a real pain in the ass!

Not sure how anything is going to turn out.  I tell my wife that I the one who's keeping my eye on the horizon, who's keeping our collective hope for a better future.  But at times like these, it really hard.

Time to tackle the world.

Keep reading!

We watched the SuperBowl at my brother's Man Cave last night.  Had a bit of a problem getting there, but once we made the connection with the game and my brother, it was great fun.

My darling wife has a problem with expectations.  I wish she would let me know what her plans are, what she is hoping will happen.  If I knew, I could help.  When I don't, I can't.

I got in trouble with her yesterday when she started to tell me about how she feels when she tries to set up a social event and it doesn't turn out like she planned.

I knew the end of the speech, and my face showed it.  She was starting to cry and thought it was about that.  I get really frustrated because she takes whatever is happening at that particular moment and makes it the only outcome possible.  I continue to remind her that things don't have to happen the same way every time.  If she'd talk to me about her expectations, maybe I could do something to fulfill them.

A while back, we went to a clinical psychologist to have my wife tested.  I think that there are functions in her brain that don't work like most other people.  One of the few usable pieces of information we got was that she has problems with abstraction.  Almost from the moment he said it, I knew it was true.  My wife can't imagine anything other than what's happening right now.  My task is to keep my head up and looking down the trail for our next obstruction, so we can work on it together and overcome it.

I am also working at making sure that her depression doesn't become my depression.  Sometimes that means I have to literally get out of her space so that I can experience my own.  Usually, that just going to the back of the trailer to read, or maybe go over to my sister's to help her with housework.  Once I get out of the power of her electromagentic field, I can usually separate my feelings from hers.  It just so difficult to watch the person you love most in the world in that much pain.

I sometimes feel that I'm married to her, but she still isn't really married to me.  I try to consider her in every decision I make, because I know it will effect her.  Sometimes I don't know if she does that with me.

We were both alone (without lovers) for 11 years before we got together.  But her 11 years was a much longer amount of time, as she's a lot younger than I am.  Also, I do have better socialization skills, so I wasn't as alone as she was.

Oh, did I ever crave skin time with her when we first connected!  I don't crave it like I used to, but her skin still turns me on in ways I had never experienced before.  Sometimes, I need to stop touching her, because it feels like I'm approaching the feedback loop from "Brainstorm,"  where the guy orgasms continuously.  It's not that bad, but I sometimes feel myself approaching the edge.

TMI?  Maybe, but it is what I feel.

I love my wife more than anything else in this world and I want to do whatever I can so she can have a life of social connection, involvement and validation.  We keep working on getting to that goal, sometimes going this way, sometimes that.  Through it all, I only want to keep her happily beside me.  Once she can feel good about herself all the time, then we can do what I feel we were meant to do - try, in our little way, to make the world a better place for all the little people, like us.

Have a great day and keep reading!

It is time to talk about Ruthie.

Ruthie is the homeless woman my wife and I met working in our local warming place. This is not a shelter, as it's only open under certain conditions.

She was there all the nights we worked, and I saw her in the public library occassionally.

I had done advocacy work on behalf of the homeless before, when I lived in Portland, Oregon.  For me, once I was aware of the problem, it never really left my world.  Moving back to my home town, I  saw people I assumed might be homeless.  Working in the library, I definitely saw people who obviously had nowhere else to go and so stayed in "the community living room" for most of the day.  Some of the time, that included my wife's brother who had worn out his welcome with my wife and so was without a home. As a low-level public employee for most of my life, I was well aware of how close most of us working class folks are to losing our homes and living on the streets.

As we had more interactions with Ruthie, both my wife and I realized quickly that she was a remarkable woman. Articulate and savvy, Ruthie has her routine pretty well fixed, and it seems to work for her.  She is aware of various agencies that help the homeless, and knows  how to access that help.  She has technology that keeps her in touch with the wider world.  She has been keeping a blog since 2004 about what it's like to be homeless in the United States in the twenty-first century.

I wanted to help her, as did my wife.  We called around and got funding from two churches to put her up in a motel for two nights the warming place wasn't open.  As a good library clerk, I gave her information to contact the mayor and the board chair of the warming place, a deacon in our church, on where to send what she had gathered. I even set up a meeting with the mayor that take place in our library.

Then thing went south.  Through my own carelessness, I sent her an email that included my concerns about getting involved so personally with her.  She told me in person she'd be "cutting us loose," if I remember her phrasing correctly.  She  sent me an email to that effect as well, and mentioned it before I had a chance to read it.  When I got it, I responded by justifying myself to her.  In re-reading the email to my wife and friends, I realized how "douchy" I sounded. How "thumbs-pulling-on-my-suspenders, rising-on-the-balls-of-my-feet" my reply sounded. I was ashamed of myself at that moment.

Her response was two sentences: "Get over yourself.  You're a hindrance." My response was the only thing I could think of at that moment: "God bless you, Ruthie."

She was certainly right on the first count, but she is completely wrong on the second.

A few days ago Ruthie's picture was on the front page of our local paper with a long story on her, other homeless persons, and the warming shelter.  It included quotes from our church deacon,  the aforementioned board chair of the warming shelter.  I thought it was a good article; I could not fault any of the information presented, but I felt the volunteers did not get proper credit.

Today, before church service, I apologized to our deacon.  He was extremely nice about it, but I know I still owe him a public apology in the form of a letter to the editor in our local paper.  I also discovered I owe an apology to the volunteers who were staffing the warming place the night the newspaper article came out.  Those poor people were caught flat-footed and felt very uncomfortable being there.  My hope is that the article and whatever else ends up in the paper because of it will help get more volunteers, which is the biggest impediment to our keeping the place open.

And as for Ruthie, I only wish her well.  She's had a rough life and deserves, as does everyone, at least a room of her own, where she can go in, shut and lock the door on the rest of the world, and feel safe.

What Ruthie and some readers may not understand is that the warming shelter only exists because of volunteers. Her demands for consistency are reasonable but unattainable in this particular year.

I will continue to do what I can, when I can, to help.

What about you? Please think about your community and what you can do to make it better, in whatever way you feel you can contribute.

Have a good day and keep reading!

I named this "View from the trailer park" but I haven't really said anything about MY trailer park.

I had driven by the park a lot before I started going there to see the woman who became my wife.

It is next to a new museum in our region, one I was working at when it first opened.  I was like most people about trailer parks, in that I didn't think much about them unless I was going to one to visit someone, which I rarely did.

Actually, I was more interested in one, particular trailer, because my beloved lived there.  My beloved and her cats!

Did you know that trailer parks seem to call cat ladies?  I did not know that, but now I do.

Most trailer parks are outside the city limits, so any rules about number of animals often do not apply.  Certainly, in our case, trying to find a place to live that would accept 4, 6 or 7 cats [depending on how you count the little darlings] would be prohibitive.  Suffice it to say, we will be staying put until the count decreases somewhat.  A number of our cats are pretty old, and we've already had to have previous cats [and our darling dog Scooter] put down due to illness.

There is another cat lady living across the lane, but most of her cats are inside.  She spends most of her time, says my darling wife, cleaning and taking care of her menagerie.

Once I started living in the park, I noticed new things.  I love living out of town - it's only a short walk to the riverfront trail, which pretty quickly goes through a wildlife area.  When the weather's warmer and dryer, I love to go for hour-long walks.  Sometimes my wife and I even get to go together.

The ebb and flow of life in the trailer park is great.  There are many Hispanic families [our area is noted for fruit orchards, particularly cherries] who have traveled through following crops and have settled in our town.  We actually have children who have grown up here whose parents settled here after working the orchards.  At the library where I work, we often have children translating for their parents or grandparents.

We have a great family living across the lane next to the other cat lady.  They have little ones and an extended family and group of friends, so there's often lots of activity on the weekends and during the summer.  When it's properly taken care of, there's even a little pool that can be open during the summer.  It's great to walk down to the pool, cool off, and watch the kids at play.  I almost even remember what it feels like to play like that.

We seem mom or grandma walk the little ones down the lane to the bus stop on the highway into town.  If I'm home in the afternoon, I can see the reverse as well.  Then there's the tiny one who goes from his parents' place to grandma's for daycare.  He is quite the cutie, and it's been fun watching him go from tottering along to walking almost faster that grandma wants to go.

At night, lying in bed with my wife, reading before going to sleep, we can hear, and feel, the trains as they move along the river.  Most of the time its comforting, but sometimes it's a little distracting.

Well, that's a little bit of what it's like for me to live at my trailer park.

Have a great rest of the day, and keep reading!