A psychotic disorder

This is Jim helping Son #3 surf in Florida in 1998. That was a great vacation. Actually, they were all pretty much mostly great. Although one day I'm going to have to make a post out of all of the vacation pictures that show someone ticked off. There was usually someone at one point (or two). What would a family vacation be without a pouting family member?

I found out today that we have two, yes 2, machetes. I'm not sure if Jim thought we would one day wake up to a thicket of weeds, or have to reap wheat or corn, or if they would come in handy as some kind of defense here in the "bubble". But Son #1 says one never knows when one might have to cut something off (I asked if it could possible be an extremity but he didn't really give me a straight answer).

I think that I'm going to have to start a list that I hope to take with me when I get to move on to my next life. I used to have an "ask God" list (#1. What really happened with the whole JFK thing? #2. Fire ants???!!). Of course number one would now be bumped down -- the first thing I'd want to know is, "What the hell were You thinking?", but you already know that). Now I need to have an "Ask Jim" list. I'm sure the machetes would make the top 10.

I'll have to ponder what else I'd ask him before I write anything more about it.

I am still in a "funk". Actually, that word is too light but I'm not sure what else to call it, other than depression.

"Depression" -- what a broad term, really. Here's what Webster's says:

1 a: the angular distance of a celestial object below the horizon b: the size of an angle of depression2: an act of depressing or a state of being depressed: as a: a pressing down : lowering b (1): a state of feeling sad: dejection (2): a psychoneurotic or psychotic disorder marked especially by sadness, inactivity, difficulty in thinking and concentration, a significant increase or decrease in appetite and time spent sleeping, feelings of dejection and hopelessness, and sometimes suicidal tendencies c (1): a reduction in activity, amount, quality, or force (2): a lowering of vitality or functional activity3: a depressed place or part : hollow4: low 1b

5: a period of low general economic activity marked especially by rising levels of unemployment

I'd definitely say I'm number 2 -- a, b and c. Right now I'm really feeling that "lowering of vitality". I think that's a good description. I can still laugh and smile and say funny things (most of the time). But inside -- and sometimes outside -- I feel a numbness and a definite lack of vitality. Actually, numbers 3 & 4 are pretty good, though not intentionally (hollow and low) and there is definitely low general economic activity, or really, just activity in general.

I'm not sure if people are aware of how exhausting trying to seem "normal" is.

But in the spirit of trying to seem "normal" (whatever the heck that is anymore) and to give everyone a chuckle -- here's what happened in my house tonight:

I got home from a meeting around 9:00. Son #3 was cleaning the kitchen and Son #1 was baking something in the toaster oven. He had just put on oven mitts and picked up a spatula as I walked in. I asked what he was cooking and Son #3 said "Cheesy bread."

At the same time he was answering my question Son #1 was inserting the spatula into the oven to ---- well, I'm not totally sure, but I think he thought he was going to take the loaf of bread out. What he actually did was push the loaf of bread to the back of the oven and then off of the rack (he hadn't used a baking pan), onto the heating elements, where it immediately burst into flames. Big flames. Big, toaster-oven-filling flames. He then panicked and unplugged it (thankfully he held the panic a bit under control) and then he pulled the flaming toaster oven over to the sink, where he fully intended to take the sprayer and fill the oven (did I mention it's brand-new?) with water. Fortunately I got past the open-mouthed shock and raced across the kitchen while yelling "DON'T TOUCH THE SPRAYER!!". He turned to look at me in surprise while I pushed past him and then blew out all of the flames (yes, as in a huge, old person's birthday cake). It worked and I saved my toaster oven (the new one) from being hosed, permanently.

Never a dull moment. Actually, that would be a good title for a book about my family.

I think dull moments get a bad rap. I'd enjoy a few.