It Only Takes One to Ruin a Day, and I Got TWO!

So, we spent Saturday at Shenandoah National Park.  It was one of the "freebie National Parks" days, and it seemed a damned shame to waste it.  Yes, we knew the shutdown was looming.  Yes, we were hesitant to blow the gas. Yes, we felt confident that this time those crazy wingnuts would do it (last chance to derail the ACA before Americans realize they LIKE it).  It was like a last great act of defiance before the shutdown.

Before my doctor's appointment for the still-growing mass in my arm.

The park hasn't really exploded with color yet, but we were still able to see some very nice sights:

Nice, huh?  Sadly, we'd brought along our astronomy binoculars in hopes of showing our boy what a sky not littered with light pollution looks like.  The weather reports had all called for clear skies . . . until the day before.  As you can see, the skies were anything but clear--in fact, a few mountain tops had us driving through clouds.  We waited around until after 9 pm, then gave it up.  Of course, about the time we got home was when the stars starting twinkling above.

Figures.

Had the day half-ruined by a couple of cruel bastards at the Skyland Dining Room, where we'd stopped for a potty break.  Two guys in crappy, eye-burning, sexually ambiguous leathers took one look at me walking towards them and I saw the look pass between them.  I knew it was coming, but once you're in their sights, there's really not a lot you can do to save yourself.  You can't very well run, and my cloaking device seems to be faulty.  You keep your eyes down and you keep walking, hoping they'll keep their cruelty to themselves until you're out of earshot.

They so rarely do.  They didn't this time.

They had been discussing nutrition, specifically complex carbohydrates.  As I walked by, one of them sneered, "And there's a big one who could use fewer complex carbohydrates."

I did what I do anymore--I don't slink off to sob alone like I used to years ago.  I whirled on the spot and shouted . . . well, rhymes with "floopid bucking shunts."  They, of course, scurried off because that's what that sort of coward does.  They COUNT on women like me to be too hurt and too shamed to fight back.

Make no mistake.  I cried myself stupid once I was back in the car.  Hubby apologized for not hanging back to defend me, said he thought something like that might happen, that they "had that look."  Yes, it does beg the question, "If you thought they had that look, if you thought something like that might happen, why DIDN'T you hang back?"  But it doesn't pay to go there, it's done, and I'm sure he wishes he had.  No telling if it would have stopped them or not.  Often, it does, but not always.

Anyway, I snapped pictures of the bastards on their "my weenie is teeny" crotch rockets.  Not great pictures, they were in motion, but good enough that, if you know them, you'll know them.  If you know what I mean.  So here they are--if you know two mean-spirited cowards who're given to abusing women they don't even know and were in Shenandoah on September 28th, give them a big, toothy smile for me.  Let them know that the fat chick they reduced to tears?  The one whose day was shot, who left off an enthusiastic day of picture taking and hiking about with her family and instead leaned listlessly against the car window and silently cried?  Doesn't forgive them.  Not now, not ever.  I hope they get so busy snickering at other people that they fail to negotiate a curve and wind up sailing into space, leaving nothing behind but a grease smear on the rocks below.

What, were you expecting some big-hearted spiel on forgiveness and the capacity of the human spirit to find good in all people?  Yeah, that's usually me, but when it comes to cruel puke splashes who get their jollies off devastating perfect strangers because of their physical appearance?

Not an ounce of forgiveness.  You made me cry in front of my teenage son.  My son, who reached up from the back seat, put a hand on my shoulder, and said "I love you."  You ruined my day, you made me, in one snotty crack, forget that I weigh 115 pounds less than I did two years ago.  You wounded me, you took the joy out of all of it, and you did it for a cheap laugh.  You suck, and I wish you at least the hurt you've caused me.

More, if fate is kind to me.  And fair to you.

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Not going to talk about the shut down.  Knew it was coming, knew that those crazy terrorists would throw us all under the bus rather than allow the LAW to be implemented.  Speaking of wishing for them all they've visited upon me, you know?  

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I've started writing down stories and the like for our boy.  I keep chewing at my mom to please write things down, memories, stories, events.  Even bought her a diary for that purpose.  And nothing.  But it occurs, that I haven't done nearly as a good a job with that as I could with my own child.  So I'm writing it down.  So often, I feel I've shifted into short-time.  Like there just isn't enough left.

What an Up and Down Day

So, yesterday rocked--when it wasn't busy sucking. 

A few weeks ago, my Mom got a letter from her bankruptcy Trustee.  A letter telling her that, because she had failed to file her income taxes, her case was being tossed and she would be open to collections from her debtors.  My nearly-80 year-old Mom.  Panicked, she called me.  I told her to call her bankruptcy attorney.  She did, and she was told not to worry--after all, she had filed her taxes, so it was obviously just a hiccough (not an uncommon one) in the Trustee's office.  She was told to gather up her paperwork and bring it on down to the attorney's office, they'd take care of it.

That's good, right?  That's easy.  One problem, though.  She can't find the paperwork. 

She calls the IRS.  They can't find the paperwork, either.  In fact, they say she didn't file.

Not a problem, I figure--just call H&R Block, right? 

Wrong.  My Mom didn't use H&R Block this past year because she couldn't afford the two hundred bucks they charge her.  No, she let my SISTER do it. 

Jesus wept.

I asked my Mom a bunch of questions and, as best as I can figure, my sister used an online program of the Turbo Tax variety.  But instead of FINISHING (which involves confirmation emails and digital signatures), she got as far as submitting the initial forms and then quit.  Figured it was "good enough."  Instead of reading the directions and fine print, she hit "submit" and then walked away.  Our poor Mother is utterly computer illiterate--no way she could have known that there was more to the process.  Ma wrote a four dollar check (what she owed) and . . . who knows?  Did it get mailed?  I have no clue, and neither does my Mom.  I've told her to check and see if the check was ever cashed.  Here's what I'm thinking--even if it was mailed, it's lazing about in a dead-check bin at the Ogden Service Center.

What to do?  I don't know!  You'd like to think that the Bankruptcy folks would take pity on an almost-80 year old woman who made a mistake but had the best of intentions.  You'd like to think they're not going to lay her open to her creditors and let her sink.  After all, she's made her bankruptcy payments on time and faithfully for over a year.  You'd like to think they're not going to bury her because her daughter didn't read for comprehension.

You'd like to think those things.  But fact is, not only do I not know, but I can easily see her sinking over this.

When I first discovered that my sister had done the taxes, I moaned.  I knew what that meant--it meant receipts weren't printed out, confirmation numbers weren't written down, forms weren't printed and filed.  Because that just comes with the territory.  I didn't dream that the taxes hadn't even been filed.  One year--I leave for ONE year and this is the disaster that comes down.  I'd have warned Ma in advance, but I had no idea she was going to let my sister do her taxes.  She's always used H&R Block.  I've told her NOW to use the free IRS seniors help or the other various "free tax prep for seniors" programs around, but barn door, you know?  Too little, too late.

On the bright side, my Dad and Step-mom sent us two hundred bucks!  Just to help out, said they'd pitch in when they can!  I can't even describe how unexpected and needed it was!  Just in time for the new car payment.  Thank you!

After agonizing with my Mom on the phone, we took a drive back up toward Shenandoah and Front Royal, with a stop at Sky Meadows State Park.  While the colors are just a bit past peak, it was still a gorgeous and wonderful drive!  We saw a gorgeous red-tailed hawk on the way out of town, walked along the Shenandoah River (Charlie, our Cairn, even got into the water a bit on his own--no encouragement!), and adored a whole flock of Amish folks at a convenience store in Front Royal.  Place wasn't so convenient, though--ladies room was closed and men's room had no toilet paper.  So we put our purchases back on the shelves and went elsewhere.  I did take a moment to warn the lovely young Amish women about the loo situation.  I'd forgotten about their wonderful accent and sweet nature.  It was great to hear them speaking to one another in their Pennsylvania Dutch.  I love it here.




Red Tailed Hawk







Shenandoah River (yes, you can sing along with John--I was)







Front Royal in full fall regalia.


We came home just in time for "Once Upon a Time," ate Catalan and homemade brownies, watched our boy pound at that programming homework until just before the deadline (he scored 100%!), and then played Mancala and crashed.  Mostly a good day, but oh, my poor Mom!