The above photo is what my church calls a living cross. On Easter Sunday, most of the congregation brought bouquets of flowers with them to service. The cross was wrapped in chicken wire and the flowers people brought with them were inserted in the holes of the wire. Voila! A living cross.

It was much more beautiful than this photo depicts. I thought it was so beautiful that I went back to church a couple of hours later to take the above photo. The photo I took with my phone wasn't good enough.

Life has balanced out a bit since my last couple of entries. The seas are much calmer, as is my spirit. My husband and I have decided to live in Oblivion Land when it comes to the house. What it means is that we are going to carry on, do repairs around here, take care of the property like usual, and pretend we have no intention of moving anywhere. We're tired of the topsy turvy world involved with moving.

Our oldest son has become an issue of sorts. He's 22, and has decided that he cannot possibly survive on his own anymore. He wishes to be treated like a six year old. I've written about his temper tantrums in here before.

Without letting us know, he's moved into his mother's house in Pennsylvania. When he first moved out of her house, he couldn't get away fast enough. But now that he has issues, he can't get in there fast enough, because he know she will treat him like the six year old he wants to be treated.

It angers me. We've bent over backwards for him and we don't even get a "I'm sorry, but I won't be around for awhile." He just upped and left.

Who were the ones that helped him financially? We did.

Who was the one that listened to his problems for hours on end? I did.

Who held his hand and his head when he cried? I did.

Yet, we don't even get told he's gone.

It pisses me right the heck off!

But.. as I said to my husband, he made his choice. He chose to live with a woman who has nothing but free rent to offer him. He can stay there. He can live his life, and we will live our own.

Yes, there is a lot more to this story, but I don't have the time to post it all.

I am through with worrying about him, sacrificing for him and picking him up when he scrapes his knees.

His mommy can do that from here on in.

Did that sound bitter? I suppose that it did. I know that it did. It's hard to fathom how he can sit there one minute and say that he considers me his mother, and then not even give me enough of a thought to tell me that he's moving out of state.

This is it. I've said my peace on the matter. I will not waste anymore energy or emotion on this.

I tell ya one thing, though.

I can't wait for church on Sunday. I need the meditation and the peace it brings me. It's been a long ass week!

In other news on the homefront, my new puppy likes eating cat poop. Oh what to do! What to do?

scritch.. scritch.. scritch..

This is the sound of one of the cats (I have five) dropping logs in the litter box.

click.. click.. click..

This is the sound of the little tiny dog's teeny tiny toenails clicking on the wood floor as he scurries over to get the fresh log. He likes 'em fresh!

..arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...

This is the sound of me screaming at the teeny tiny dog to drop the log and back away from the cat litter.

click... click.. click..

This is the sound of the little tiny dog's teeny tiny toenails clicking on the wood floor as he trots over to me, with litter on his nose, to look at me as if saying, "Whad I do, Mom?"

Sigh...

Life is interesting.

Very interesting.. heh