Wednesday, August 21, 2013
once in a....
talk about an incredible full [and blue] moon. a sixsome of us journeyed out last night for a full moon paddle but had no idea it would be so absolutely wonderful. standing on sea island beach looking out at the ocean and moon, every one of us agreed it didn't feel like we were on earth anymore. Rob looked at me and said "we live here" -- what a beautiful night. as we headed 'home' toward east beach i felt like i was in a dream i had a year or so ago--and if I'd seen a mermaid I would have been ecstatic (but would not have been surprised) it was THAT awe inspiring. makes me want to go to the beach tonight just to see if it was really real....and get another fix. yes. we live here. photos below. enjoy :)
Sunday, August 18, 2013
manual labor = good
dear journal:
as you know the last two-three weeks have been qualifiers for an episode on twilight zone. I suspect there is more to come, but my brother announced the scheduling of an emergency probate hearing on the 22nd, and things have been looking hopeful for at least successfully contesting the aformentioned fraud and getting what monies are left heading in their more well-intended directions.
the past week dragged by at work, but nothing loomed over me like the weekend. I've had the sensation of somehow existing for the last 2 weeks in a perpetual out-of-body experience. I'm aware of what's going on, but have very little to account for it as one evening stretches into another morning. I knew I needed to do something to sort-of ground myself but I had no idea what that might be -- relaxing at home with a book? eh. Ok, same book but on the beach?...nah. Long bike ride around the island?....my ideas were just not cutting it. Then my friend Arnold asked if I could help out at the horse barn this weekend while he went to a funeral. Bingo. Then he texted that the funeral was moved to next weekend. Hmmh, so I asked him if he'd just like to have the morning off. Bingo #2. I met him Friday evening at the stables and walked through what needed to be done, and yesterday from 830am until 1pm I mucked 13 horse stalls and communed with the equines. I came home, chugged enough water to float the ark, make sandwiches and drove over to Rob's work to share late lunch with him, came back home, read a random article about 9/11 (and allowed myself a respectful cry session), then drank more water. I considered how good a beer might taste but didn't really want one and knew I'd probably go right to sleep if I did - I was deliriously tired. But at 5:09 I decided to go back to help Arnold close up the stables. Rob met us out there and we went to Coastal Kitchen for oysters and shrimp and a few beers. Back home I dropped my purse at the foot of the bed and pulled on a pair of pj bottoms that were on the floor. I do not remember my head touching the pillow.
For whatever insane reason, I hauled my sore self out of bed this morning and went out to help with Sunday duties. Apparently something inside me determined it was necessary. Yesterday was overcast and breezy but today was sunny and hot. I took a jug of water and I'm pretty sure I sweat it out as soon as I drank it. We finished up in the stalls around 1pm and saddled Eagle, Arnold's lanky young Appaloosa, for a jaunt around the farm. Then, almost begrudgingly, we called it a day. The tendinitis in my right wrist has been flaming since last night, I have a relatively painless blister on my right thumb knuckle despite leather gloves and anytime I move I can feel every muscle in my back, shoulders, arms and hands. I haven't smelled as awful, sweat as much or had so much grime on me in years. I could not have paid for better therapy.
Also worthy of noting. Prior to and in the meantime of fraud-snafu, there have been good things going on in life that do not deserve to be overshadowed by The Dark Side [of Polish con-artist murderers].
werps...stuff like that still sneaks out from time to time....
a little history: last year I took a deep breath and bought a car. An 06 G35. Wanda. It was a lovely car to look at and to drive (tribute photo below)
Sadly, 28 days later it was done-in by Tropical Storm Debbie and the street where one of her related flash-floods developed while I was on it. There is a distinct reason why they're called 'flash floods'...one second it's raining. Two minutes later the light hasn't changed yet and suddenly you're in 2 feet of moving water that has risen up around you before you could realize what was happening. Hopefully the first and last natural disaster style trauma I ever have to experience. I made two payments and Geico covered the funeral expenses (eventually). I console myself with the knowledge that something was probably wrong with it and while the insurance claim did slightly irritate my future premiums, it's probably not as bad as whatever repairs might have been needed. RIP Wanda.
I returned to driving old reliable Black Betty. What a car. 365k and counting. And I was never wowed by another car in a way that made me feel okay about saddling myself with car payments for the next several years. Then one day (July 30th) I saw a little Honda out in front of a local dealership where I know the GM. I took it home that night as a tester. And I bought it the next day (July 31st -- always buy new cars at the end of the month).
Welcome to the family Vanna!
AND last but certainly not least, a few weeks ago Rob, who [tomorrow] starts his next to last semester of "so you waited 10 years to go to grad school" post-bachelors & pre- grad-school course work, was offered a part time position at a nearby outpatient therapy clinic where he's been logging observation hours over the summer. That was great news. His hours there work perfectly with his class schedule and a few of the PTs there graduated from Armstrong which is one of two schools Rob will be applying to (next month!). I'm sure I have been too distracted to adequately acknowledge how happy I am for him because I know he is happy. But my happiness only compliments my confidence that he will succeed and should never be confused with surprise, because people love my husband wherever he goes, and if they don't they're unworthy idiots. He's one of the most dedicated, smart, hard-working and genuinely good people I've ever known. I can't wait for him to become a Physical Therapist.
Neither can my back and right shoulder ;)
annnd tomorrow is Monday. sigh. but it's not here yet.
as you know the last two-three weeks have been qualifiers for an episode on twilight zone. I suspect there is more to come, but my brother announced the scheduling of an emergency probate hearing on the 22nd, and things have been looking hopeful for at least successfully contesting the aformentioned fraud and getting what monies are left heading in their more well-intended directions.
the past week dragged by at work, but nothing loomed over me like the weekend. I've had the sensation of somehow existing for the last 2 weeks in a perpetual out-of-body experience. I'm aware of what's going on, but have very little to account for it as one evening stretches into another morning. I knew I needed to do something to sort-of ground myself but I had no idea what that might be -- relaxing at home with a book? eh. Ok, same book but on the beach?...nah. Long bike ride around the island?....my ideas were just not cutting it. Then my friend Arnold asked if I could help out at the horse barn this weekend while he went to a funeral. Bingo. Then he texted that the funeral was moved to next weekend. Hmmh, so I asked him if he'd just like to have the morning off. Bingo #2. I met him Friday evening at the stables and walked through what needed to be done, and yesterday from 830am until 1pm I mucked 13 horse stalls and communed with the equines. I came home, chugged enough water to float the ark, make sandwiches and drove over to Rob's work to share late lunch with him, came back home, read a random article about 9/11 (and allowed myself a respectful cry session), then drank more water. I considered how good a beer might taste but didn't really want one and knew I'd probably go right to sleep if I did - I was deliriously tired. But at 5:09 I decided to go back to help Arnold close up the stables. Rob met us out there and we went to Coastal Kitchen for oysters and shrimp and a few beers. Back home I dropped my purse at the foot of the bed and pulled on a pair of pj bottoms that were on the floor. I do not remember my head touching the pillow.
For whatever insane reason, I hauled my sore self out of bed this morning and went out to help with Sunday duties. Apparently something inside me determined it was necessary. Yesterday was overcast and breezy but today was sunny and hot. I took a jug of water and I'm pretty sure I sweat it out as soon as I drank it. We finished up in the stalls around 1pm and saddled Eagle, Arnold's lanky young Appaloosa, for a jaunt around the farm. Then, almost begrudgingly, we called it a day. The tendinitis in my right wrist has been flaming since last night, I have a relatively painless blister on my right thumb knuckle despite leather gloves and anytime I move I can feel every muscle in my back, shoulders, arms and hands. I haven't smelled as awful, sweat as much or had so much grime on me in years. I could not have paid for better therapy.
Also worthy of noting. Prior to and in the meantime of fraud-snafu, there have been good things going on in life that do not deserve to be overshadowed by The Dark Side [of Polish con-artist murderers].
werps...stuff like that still sneaks out from time to time....
a little history: last year I took a deep breath and bought a car. An 06 G35. Wanda. It was a lovely car to look at and to drive (tribute photo below)
Sadly, 28 days later it was done-in by Tropical Storm Debbie and the street where one of her related flash-floods developed while I was on it. There is a distinct reason why they're called 'flash floods'...one second it's raining. Two minutes later the light hasn't changed yet and suddenly you're in 2 feet of moving water that has risen up around you before you could realize what was happening. Hopefully the first and last natural disaster style trauma I ever have to experience. I made two payments and Geico covered the funeral expenses (eventually). I console myself with the knowledge that something was probably wrong with it and while the insurance claim did slightly irritate my future premiums, it's probably not as bad as whatever repairs might have been needed. RIP Wanda.
I returned to driving old reliable Black Betty. What a car. 365k and counting. And I was never wowed by another car in a way that made me feel okay about saddling myself with car payments for the next several years. Then one day (July 30th) I saw a little Honda out in front of a local dealership where I know the GM. I took it home that night as a tester. And I bought it the next day (July 31st -- always buy new cars at the end of the month).
Welcome to the family Vanna!
 | |||||
| Yay! |
AND last but certainly not least, a few weeks ago Rob, who [tomorrow] starts his next to last semester of "so you waited 10 years to go to grad school" post-bachelors & pre- grad-school course work, was offered a part time position at a nearby outpatient therapy clinic where he's been logging observation hours over the summer. That was great news. His hours there work perfectly with his class schedule and a few of the PTs there graduated from Armstrong which is one of two schools Rob will be applying to (next month!). I'm sure I have been too distracted to adequately acknowledge how happy I am for him because I know he is happy. But my happiness only compliments my confidence that he will succeed and should never be confused with surprise, because people love my husband wherever he goes, and if they don't they're unworthy idiots. He's one of the most dedicated, smart, hard-working and genuinely good people I've ever known. I can't wait for him to become a Physical Therapist.
Neither can my back and right shoulder ;)
annnd tomorrow is Monday. sigh. but it's not here yet.
Monday, August 12, 2013
Worth The Risk: stuff humans should not do to each other
I traveled to SC this past weekend to spend some time with my brother and my mother who had been there since Tuesday afternoon. I've struggled with the reasons I needed to be there not because I doubted the underlying cause, but because there is nothing I can say or do to make either of them feel any better. And that sucks.
Charles was man my mother dated after my father died. He was not good to me. But he was good to my mom and he was close to my brother. Those are the main reasons why I forgave him for just how not good he was to me. 3-5 years ago he was diagnosed with an aortic aneurysm and asked my brother to be executor of his will and estate after he died. Left untreated that diagnosis isn't necessarily a death sentence but it is pretty much a ticking time bomb and you never know when the great hand of the universe might push the red button. A lot of people die from other things before it goes, but his father had died from the same thing, so I suppose there was a sense of fate there. Despite his frailties as a person, he willed all of his assets to SmileTrain, Furman University, Woodruff Library, Adventist Church, BBN radio and Pacific Garden Mission. He asked my brother to make sure his wishes were carried out.
I worried about my brother then. He feels a lot. I used to think that I felt too much because I was a thinker (I. Think. All. The. Time.). But he does more than me. And our coping strategies are simultaneously the same and somehow polar opposite. Bottom line is I knew it would be hard for him to navigate the waters of probate and grieve for Charles effectively. But that was then.
Tuesday morning my brother called me and said he'd randomly found out that Charles had died. No one called or told him even though he's listed every as the emergency contact. He found out by going to the house to check in because he hadn't been able to get him on the phone and hadn't heard from Charles in about a week -- and that was unusual. Stefan and Charles were pretty close. Eventually he found out Charles had died 3-4 days before. He found out a woman that no one knows had signed the death certificate as a member of his family, except Charles had no family. He found out that this woman had the body immediately cremated. She says she threw the ashes around a pond down in the woods at Charles' house. She forged a quit-claim deed of his house and property into her name. She'd also written a Will assigning herself as the executor and forged his estate to herself as well. His signature looks uncannily like that of the notary public who also signed both documents. The notary public turned out to be the woman's daughter. The woman says she was his house cleaner. She's a registered nurse in the state of South Carolina and has two other expired licenses between NJ and Penn.
Her husband runs a home inspector business out of Greenville and boasts "encyclopedic knowledge of the housing industry" as well as offering risk management in brokering. In all "fairness" they claim to be separated, but it's difficult to ignore the potential level of teamwork here. Team Con. Yesterday they installed a gate across Charles' driveway and mounted two big flags on it. One is the American Flag, the other is the famously absurd "Don't Tread On Me" -- I struggle with the symbolism there. This is America.
Everyone who gave any level of shit (bad or good) about Charles (including his lawyer) is baffled, appalled, infuriated, perplexed...etc. We're all upset. My brother and mother especially. Anyone who never knew him couldn't possibly care any less about what has happened. This includes Laurens county police, Lauren's county coroner (may he rot in hell), the county judge, SLED (who have thus far referred us back to Lauren's county police... "Thanks!")...the list goes on....I will say my brother seemed optimistic about the response from the county solicitor. There's hope yet.
Had this happened in Georgia any of us have contacts out the wazoo. An estate lawyer who is a friend of mine has offered what she can. Mainly I wanted to know time frames so that I could try to help Mom and Stefan get their heads around what has happened and what to expect (as in, nothing overnight). An estate in probate can take up to a year when nothing goes wrong. Liken this to that, but add identity theft and (gasp) most likely murder. This could take years. There are at least 2 other instances where she's done the same to others. She's a woman who identifies older individuals who have substantial assets, seem to be socially isolated with little or no family or close friends. She cases them for months. She is meticulous and bold and I'm not afraid to say she is absolutely, without a doubt a dangerous person (only she will ever know how Charles really died). She's a sociopath and she has continued to get away with these things because she's never been challenged by anyone.
Until now. And unfortunately she wronged someone who, despite appearances, did have a family in his life who cared. All of us cared differently, but our feelings are all the same now--we are all pissed--and I believe we will not stop until she's exposed.
Charles was man my mother dated after my father died. He was not good to me. But he was good to my mom and he was close to my brother. Those are the main reasons why I forgave him for just how not good he was to me. 3-5 years ago he was diagnosed with an aortic aneurysm and asked my brother to be executor of his will and estate after he died. Left untreated that diagnosis isn't necessarily a death sentence but it is pretty much a ticking time bomb and you never know when the great hand of the universe might push the red button. A lot of people die from other things before it goes, but his father had died from the same thing, so I suppose there was a sense of fate there. Despite his frailties as a person, he willed all of his assets to SmileTrain, Furman University, Woodruff Library, Adventist Church, BBN radio and Pacific Garden Mission. He asked my brother to make sure his wishes were carried out.
I worried about my brother then. He feels a lot. I used to think that I felt too much because I was a thinker (I. Think. All. The. Time.). But he does more than me. And our coping strategies are simultaneously the same and somehow polar opposite. Bottom line is I knew it would be hard for him to navigate the waters of probate and grieve for Charles effectively. But that was then.
Tuesday morning my brother called me and said he'd randomly found out that Charles had died. No one called or told him even though he's listed every as the emergency contact. He found out by going to the house to check in because he hadn't been able to get him on the phone and hadn't heard from Charles in about a week -- and that was unusual. Stefan and Charles were pretty close. Eventually he found out Charles had died 3-4 days before. He found out a woman that no one knows had signed the death certificate as a member of his family, except Charles had no family. He found out that this woman had the body immediately cremated. She says she threw the ashes around a pond down in the woods at Charles' house. She forged a quit-claim deed of his house and property into her name. She'd also written a Will assigning herself as the executor and forged his estate to herself as well. His signature looks uncannily like that of the notary public who also signed both documents. The notary public turned out to be the woman's daughter. The woman says she was his house cleaner. She's a registered nurse in the state of South Carolina and has two other expired licenses between NJ and Penn.
Her husband runs a home inspector business out of Greenville and boasts "encyclopedic knowledge of the housing industry" as well as offering risk management in brokering. In all "fairness" they claim to be separated, but it's difficult to ignore the potential level of teamwork here. Team Con. Yesterday they installed a gate across Charles' driveway and mounted two big flags on it. One is the American Flag, the other is the famously absurd "Don't Tread On Me" -- I struggle with the symbolism there. This is America.
Everyone who gave any level of shit (bad or good) about Charles (including his lawyer) is baffled, appalled, infuriated, perplexed...etc. We're all upset. My brother and mother especially. Anyone who never knew him couldn't possibly care any less about what has happened. This includes Laurens county police, Lauren's county coroner (may he rot in hell), the county judge, SLED (who have thus far referred us back to Lauren's county police... "Thanks!")...the list goes on....I will say my brother seemed optimistic about the response from the county solicitor. There's hope yet.
Had this happened in Georgia any of us have contacts out the wazoo. An estate lawyer who is a friend of mine has offered what she can. Mainly I wanted to know time frames so that I could try to help Mom and Stefan get their heads around what has happened and what to expect (as in, nothing overnight). An estate in probate can take up to a year when nothing goes wrong. Liken this to that, but add identity theft and (gasp) most likely murder. This could take years. There are at least 2 other instances where she's done the same to others. She's a woman who identifies older individuals who have substantial assets, seem to be socially isolated with little or no family or close friends. She cases them for months. She is meticulous and bold and I'm not afraid to say she is absolutely, without a doubt a dangerous person (only she will ever know how Charles really died). She's a sociopath and she has continued to get away with these things because she's never been challenged by anyone.
Until now. And unfortunately she wronged someone who, despite appearances, did have a family in his life who cared. All of us cared differently, but our feelings are all the same now--we are all pissed--and I believe we will not stop until she's exposed.
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