2005-BAD/2006-GOOD

As the New Year began, I could feel in my heart and soul that this will be a better year. Isn't that what we tell ourselves each year? Well, not really. Last year I didn't--only because 2004 WAS a good year and I suppose I took for granted that it was. So, 2005 sucked. The hub began his "every-couple-of-years I hate my job mentality" which drives me absolutely crazy. I wait for the moment when he says (again), "Ok dear, we're packing up, selling the house and moving"-- you know that primal instinct men have to migrate to find a better watering hole, more fertile ground, whatever it is that they're looking for. So, over the years (20 to be exact), I've learned to ignore my fear of those infamous words being said and I stay positive through and through.

With the beginning of 2006, I did something that will absolutely ward off "Bad 2006." For the first time in my life, I made black-eyed peas. Well, let me tell you, coming from a mother born and raised in Georgia and a father born and raised in Texas, the Southern blood line runs deep in my veins. So, it goes without saying, but I will anyway, my mother always made black-eyed peas for New Year's. I can remember as a child, "honey, just eat one for good luck." The taste almost nauseated me, but I did, and it seems that luck has always been on my side. (My brother used to spit it under the table--his luck, not so good.) Well, to make a long story short, my mom moved in with us several years ago, let's see, Labor Day 2003. She's 82 years old. And with her age, she no longer cooks for us.......pout. So, last year, New Year's 2005, NO black-eyed peas. Thus, a BAD year.

The money was tight, which usually isn't that bad; but 2004 was, as I said, a very good year in more ways than one, but yes, monetarily. So, you feel the pinch coming off a good year. That doesn't bother me much, but it drives the hub absolutely NUTS. I grew up with my father owning his own businesses. Yes, it was feast or famine, that was completely natural for us. You learn to take both with stride. But watching all the natural disasters was tough. Having moved to Nashville in the summer of 2001 from DC, it was heartwrenching to watch from afar the destruction of 9/11. I grew up about a mile from the Pentagon; my hub's family all in the NYC area. I was guilt ridden for a long time not being there to help. It was really a strange feeling. I was truly missing my homebase. So when the hurricanes continued to pound the Gulf Coast, which we frequent each summer, I knew I had to help this time. I volunteered at the local shelter that opened up and housed over 100 evacuees. I felt good. I was giving back and making a difference. Good for me, but still very bad for all the people who had to endure the wrath of those hurricanes.

Well, as far as my bleeding heart goes, I suppose you can say it's a bleeding heart to a fault. Let me explain. Mid-way through the year, I opened my house to a childhood friend with Bipolar Disorder. She lived with us for over 2 months with her adult son. No episodes. I felt I was helping her escape her horrible home life. We took her on vacation to the Gulf with us. No episodes. It was as if we were sisters. We had known each other since we were two. So, when she became manic, I continued my support. I was helping her with her medication, taking her to her new found doctors, keeping her calm with our quite boring family life here in "little Nashvul." She was doing ok, until one night she flipped and pulled a hunting knife on me and my son which ended in me having to call 911. True friend (idiot) that I am, I didn't tell where she was, who she was and I didn't want to press charges. Since she has yet to fess up to her doing any wrong doing, I still fear that one day she may return. Perhaps it's time to get that alarm system in tip-top shape, eh? Anyway, 2005--BAD.

I will continue in 2006 to be a bleeding heart, I guess. (Could that be the primal instinct for women?)