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Infectious Madness by Harriet Washington
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<blockquote data-quote="New Leaf" data-source="post: 670339" data-attributes="member: 19522"><p>Hi Cedar Love your story of your life with D H.</p><p></p><p>You asked about my D H, okay so D H is an acronym? I am thinking it is very appropriate, Dear Heart, DuH, Damn Husband, etc. Looking at this in preview D-H becomes "husband" like writing G-F-G without the - becomes difficult child. Excuse my non-savvy here.</p><p></p><p>Married life is definitely not the Disney definition. It is hard work, sometimes it is hell, other times heaven. Big differences in culture and family.</p><p>If I knew then what I know now, I would have RUN!</p><p>Fast and far, far away. But I didn't, and here I still am.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>I believe what you wrote as true, and it is all a part of that old patterning theme. The hubs and I started out as friends.</p><p>I loved him before I learned how to love myself.</p><p>I made a commitment, I should have been <em>committed! </em></p><p></p><p>Hubs had a very, very difficult childhood. His father was well loved by friends and family, but very abusive to his mother, and his children.</p><p>I was thrown into a world so different from my own. Out of the frying pan into the fire. That is a long, long story.</p><p></p><p>He is strong and tough around a very soft heart. He is a hard, hard worker. I have to read between the non spoken words to know the love he has for me. Through all of these years, all of the good times and bad, I think we understand each other, well sort of, we understand that we are two very different people. It doesn't get easier.</p><p></p><p>We are like comfortable old hiking boots, the tread is all worn out and the laces are frayed, but there are many more trails to walk.</p><p></p><p>I almost wrote trials. Huh.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Funny, my Mom and Dad were not yellers.</p><p>Here I am, with the extreme Chinese waitress.</p><p>The old me, used to get all uptight and fret over his antics, silly.</p><p>I finally realized that it wasn't up to me, that it was just him, being him.</p><p>So, don't try to talk to him while he is fixing the car, or watching football, or doing anything, because he just cannot multi-task like that.</p><p>When all he could do was grumble about my cooking, " Here brah." Handing over the spatula, "YOU do the cooking then!"</p><p>I don't argue with him, he is a big baby. There is no winning, just circles. Best to just walk away and let the air clear.</p><p>Good thing I have my hobbies.</p><p></p><p>When our two G-F-G's were coming and going through the revolving door, our house started looking like a refugee camp. Small, our house is. Three bedrooms, two baths, 1100 square feet. At the max capacity, we had ten people living here. I accumulated bureaus, bunkbeds, etc. I recently said, that's it, no more revolving door, we are done, I am reclaiming our living room.</p><p></p><p>No budget to redecorate. Oops paint at Home Depot is cheap. Now for a couch. Had a great idea to break down boys bunkbed and use the top section for a couch- cover bolsters, add pillows and voila! Couch!</p><p></p><p> It was not the typical bunkbed, it had to be cut apart.</p><p></p><p>When to recruit the Hubs to do the man work of sawing the top off? Risky business, getting the Hubs to do something. It won't be met with "Sure Honey, what a great idea!"</p><p>My hubs mumbles under his breath, loud enough for me to hear that he is griping, but soft enough that I cannot make out what he is saying.</p><p></p><p>There is no in between, I get mumbling, or yelling.</p><p></p><p>Up he gets from his chair. Here comes the frenzy. Knit brow, determined, he is a man of action. Don't get in his way, and do things before he asks you.</p><p></p><p>Sorry brah, I forgot to download the telepathy app.</p><p></p><p>He is shouting at our son, "Get the extension cord, and the light" he is in his "get it done" mode. No time to think or talk, or say please, just do it. Chop, chop. I feel myself tensing, here we go. Excited that my vision will be accomplished, yet anxious because there will be a saw involved, and probably not the right one, and it will be done in haste. It is too late to change the course. I have some dread, here comes the circular saw, a tool usually used on a table, he will use it sideways, sawing the bed posts apart in the bedroom. This is a man on coumadin. I try not to think of the horrific possibilities of limb loss. He is saying to my son and I, "Here, you hold this board here, so I can make a straight cut." I am like "You want me to put my head and my hands next to that thing?" Pointing at the menacing saw that will be improperly used. He is in full extreme Chinese waitress glory. "What- you- like- me- do?" My heart pounding with the tension and chop chop, haste, yelling, I went into a Red Fox dissertation from Sanford and Son, "Oh my God, I can't do this you are giving me a fricking heart attack!" Clutching my chest I walk out of the room. "Yah-ok-you- just- go- then!" He shouts. I sit out in the living room heaving sighs, trying to calm myself down. Whirrrrrrrrrr, sounds the saw from the bedroom.</p><p></p><p>No limb loss, it is done. It took a riot act to do it, but it is done.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Yes, he is an honorable man. He is Oscar the grouch, Shrek, Archie Bunker (minus the racism), Walter Matthau in "Grumpy Old Men", Cookie Monster, Animal from the muppets, Lurch from the Adams family. All rolled up in to one. Underneath all of those characters is a vulnerability, a loyalty that makes us love them. And I do love him, my neanderthal. </p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>I love how you describe this thing, marriage. I could not imagine being with anyone else. We have grown so accustomed to one another.</p><p></p><p>Italians and Hawaiians are very much alike in this aspect. Everything is centered around food. Hubs has a HUGE family. We have a giant reunion every two years, organized by the family counsel. There is camping and activities, and every kind of food imaginable. People come and go, sing, dance hula, tell stories, it is amazing.</p><p>It is not only the food that is important, but the <em>love </em>that goes into the prepping and cooking of it.</p><p></p><p> Chinese, Japanese, Filipino, Hawaiian. It is hard to be in shape here, the food is so ono (Delicious, tasty, savory; to relish, crave; deliciousness, flavor, savor).</p><p></p><p></p><p>Hubs is a great pretender also. I would be the bat catcher as well. The high pitched screaming, eek it's a mouse, jump on the chair damsel in distress would have no affect. I have had to learn to fend for myself. It is a good thing. I can take care of myself. Hubs, on the other hand wants to make me his secretary. He calls me at work "Uh, can you call Dr, so and so and make me one appointment?"</p><p></p><p>That's the rare times I hear him actually "talking".... on the phone. I half jokingly tell him we should get plastic phones, so he can talk civilly to me in the same room.</p><p></p><p></p><p>We have a series of ant colonies rotating through the year here, ant wars. Teeny tinies give way to black ones, then non biting red ones, then nasty bigger black ones that like to nest in electronics. UGH. Tropical living means bugs. I have found a great non-toxic remedy called diatomaceous earth. Food grade. I buy it from the local feed store and put it in my cabinets and drawers, by the baseboards. Good stuff. People actually dissolve it in tea, or juice to keep parasites out of the gut. Interesting info on the internet on it.</p><p></p><p>I am excited for this weekend. I have resolved to get going and clean up too. </p><p>Put things in order. </p><p></p><p>Then, I should like to drive to the east side of the island, where the forecast is calling for high surf. </p><p></p><p>There is such beauty to the power and chaos of the ocean.</p><p></p><p>Hope your weekend is full of adventure!</p><p>Leafy</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="New Leaf, post: 670339, member: 19522"] Hi Cedar Love your story of your life with D H. You asked about my D H, okay so D H is an acronym? I am thinking it is very appropriate, Dear Heart, DuH, Damn Husband, etc. Looking at this in preview D-H becomes "husband" like writing G-F-G without the - becomes difficult child. Excuse my non-savvy here. Married life is definitely not the Disney definition. It is hard work, sometimes it is hell, other times heaven. Big differences in culture and family. If I knew then what I know now, I would have RUN! Fast and far, far away. But I didn't, and here I still am. I believe what you wrote as true, and it is all a part of that old patterning theme. The hubs and I started out as friends. I loved him before I learned how to love myself. I made a commitment, I should have been [I]committed! [/I] Hubs had a very, very difficult childhood. His father was well loved by friends and family, but very abusive to his mother, and his children. I was thrown into a world so different from my own. Out of the frying pan into the fire. That is a long, long story. He is strong and tough around a very soft heart. He is a hard, hard worker. I have to read between the non spoken words to know the love he has for me. Through all of these years, all of the good times and bad, I think we understand each other, well sort of, we understand that we are two very different people. It doesn't get easier. We are like comfortable old hiking boots, the tread is all worn out and the laces are frayed, but there are many more trails to walk. I almost wrote trials. Huh. Funny, my Mom and Dad were not yellers. Here I am, with the extreme Chinese waitress. The old me, used to get all uptight and fret over his antics, silly. I finally realized that it wasn't up to me, that it was just him, being him. So, don't try to talk to him while he is fixing the car, or watching football, or doing anything, because he just cannot multi-task like that. When all he could do was grumble about my cooking, " Here brah." Handing over the spatula, "YOU do the cooking then!" I don't argue with him, he is a big baby. There is no winning, just circles. Best to just walk away and let the air clear. Good thing I have my hobbies. When our two G-F-G's were coming and going through the revolving door, our house started looking like a refugee camp. Small, our house is. Three bedrooms, two baths, 1100 square feet. At the max capacity, we had ten people living here. I accumulated bureaus, bunkbeds, etc. I recently said, that's it, no more revolving door, we are done, I am reclaiming our living room. No budget to redecorate. Oops paint at Home Depot is cheap. Now for a couch. Had a great idea to break down boys bunkbed and use the top section for a couch- cover bolsters, add pillows and voila! Couch! It was not the typical bunkbed, it had to be cut apart. When to recruit the Hubs to do the man work of sawing the top off? Risky business, getting the Hubs to do something. It won't be met with "Sure Honey, what a great idea!" My hubs mumbles under his breath, loud enough for me to hear that he is griping, but soft enough that I cannot make out what he is saying. There is no in between, I get mumbling, or yelling. Up he gets from his chair. Here comes the frenzy. Knit brow, determined, he is a man of action. Don't get in his way, and do things before he asks you. Sorry brah, I forgot to download the telepathy app. He is shouting at our son, "Get the extension cord, and the light" he is in his "get it done" mode. No time to think or talk, or say please, just do it. Chop, chop. I feel myself tensing, here we go. Excited that my vision will be accomplished, yet anxious because there will be a saw involved, and probably not the right one, and it will be done in haste. It is too late to change the course. I have some dread, here comes the circular saw, a tool usually used on a table, he will use it sideways, sawing the bed posts apart in the bedroom. This is a man on coumadin. I try not to think of the horrific possibilities of limb loss. He is saying to my son and I, "Here, you hold this board here, so I can make a straight cut." I am like "You want me to put my head and my hands next to that thing?" Pointing at the menacing saw that will be improperly used. He is in full extreme Chinese waitress glory. "What- you- like- me- do?" My heart pounding with the tension and chop chop, haste, yelling, I went into a Red Fox dissertation from Sanford and Son, "Oh my God, I can't do this you are giving me a fricking heart attack!" Clutching my chest I walk out of the room. "Yah-ok-you- just- go- then!" He shouts. I sit out in the living room heaving sighs, trying to calm myself down. Whirrrrrrrrrr, sounds the saw from the bedroom. No limb loss, it is done. It took a riot act to do it, but it is done. Yes, he is an honorable man. He is Oscar the grouch, Shrek, Archie Bunker (minus the racism), Walter Matthau in "Grumpy Old Men", Cookie Monster, Animal from the muppets, Lurch from the Adams family. All rolled up in to one. Underneath all of those characters is a vulnerability, a loyalty that makes us love them. And I do love him, my neanderthal. I love how you describe this thing, marriage. I could not imagine being with anyone else. We have grown so accustomed to one another. Italians and Hawaiians are very much alike in this aspect. Everything is centered around food. Hubs has a HUGE family. We have a giant reunion every two years, organized by the family counsel. There is camping and activities, and every kind of food imaginable. People come and go, sing, dance hula, tell stories, it is amazing. It is not only the food that is important, but the [I]love [/I]that goes into the prepping and cooking of it. Chinese, Japanese, Filipino, Hawaiian. It is hard to be in shape here, the food is so ono (Delicious, tasty, savory; to relish, crave; deliciousness, flavor, savor). Hubs is a great pretender also. I would be the bat catcher as well. The high pitched screaming, eek it's a mouse, jump on the chair damsel in distress would have no affect. I have had to learn to fend for myself. It is a good thing. I can take care of myself. Hubs, on the other hand wants to make me his secretary. He calls me at work "Uh, can you call Dr, so and so and make me one appointment?" That's the rare times I hear him actually "talking".... on the phone. I half jokingly tell him we should get plastic phones, so he can talk civilly to me in the same room. We have a series of ant colonies rotating through the year here, ant wars. Teeny tinies give way to black ones, then non biting red ones, then nasty bigger black ones that like to nest in electronics. UGH. Tropical living means bugs. I have found a great non-toxic remedy called diatomaceous earth. Food grade. I buy it from the local feed store and put it in my cabinets and drawers, by the baseboards. Good stuff. People actually dissolve it in tea, or juice to keep parasites out of the gut. Interesting info on the internet on it. I am excited for this weekend. I have resolved to get going and clean up too. Put things in order. Then, I should like to drive to the east side of the island, where the forecast is calling for high surf. There is such beauty to the power and chaos of the ocean. Hope your weekend is full of adventure! Leafy [/QUOTE]
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