Burnt Offerings
Just when you thought it was safe to rent a creepy old country house at a surprisingly affordable rate…
As I lay dreaming holding my face in pain, I smelled something burning coming from the kitchen at 4am.
Nardo's Back in Town
In a sleepy stupor I wander to the kitchen to see what the smell is going on, the lights are left on. A pan is left in the oven with the oven on 350*F with its contents burnt to an unrecognizable crisp, smelling up the house and waking me up with it pungent odour. Nardo has burnt a pan of something that smells like dead rottings from the Attack of the Killer Tomatoes. Nardo was downstairs sleeping at this point, forgetting his food in the oven, I turned off the heat and took the pan out of the oven and left it on the stove, so he would see it. It’s me and Nardo for a week and he’s off to a running halt.
Earlier last night I returned home from a day trip to take GF and food offerings to her daughter to help with the second new grandchild, who by the way is precious, as most babies go. Her first grandson is very excited to see Nana come for a visit. She brought him a “water baby” with a tub to help him fathom caring for his new brother. GF instinctually knows how to contribute to helping family. She brought over $500 in supplies and groceries to help them through getting used to the second baby. They live out on an acreage in the valley heading out towards Whistler, about a 2 hour trip or so one way. So 4 hours plus visiting time.
As I arrived home after dark last night, Nardo had just come home from his house sit at GFs friend. Seems like musical houses around here. I said hello, and he did make an effort of speaking back. He stood in the kitchen in his flower meggings, and curly black hair, trying to look girly I guess. I asked how his day was, and if he was done his house sit. He nodded yes, Then he quickly disappeared downstairs. I ran a bath and went to bed. Suddenly I am wakened from my sleep early this morning by the smell of something odd, I went down to find his abandoned midnight food project. I want to scream, but it would hurt my face. Sometimes I feel like I want to kill somebody, not to name any names..
Leviticus 1 : What were the characteristics of burnt offerings?
1) Personal, he uses our pots, our food and our kitchen
2) Cattle, he wastes good meat when he burns is
3) Male, not certain, he thinks he's female
4) Without Blemish, leaves mess behind
5) Voluntary, it appears to be involuntary
6) At the tabernacle, the kitchen stove
7) Physical touch, heavy handed
8) Atonement, none
9) Personally killed, he steals it all from the fridge by himself
10) Blood sprinkled, he really has no sense of sacrifice
11) Cut in pieces, yes chopped into gullet size pieces
12) Burned, of course, charred beyond recognition
13) Washed; for a sweet savour and dumped in the garbage
God had a detailed process
It’s morning and the pan is still on the stove where I left it earlier. I turned up the house heat and went back upstairs to meditate. He is now up in the kitchen throwing out the food and clunking pots washing up the evidence. When he leaves the kitchen I go down to make breakfast. There is a half pot of tea steeping for the kettle to boil and fill up his pot. He’s gone downstairs. He seems to be avoiding me as I am him. Dumbass. What can I say? The fucker just can’t function like most human beings. Frankly, neither can I.
I don’t have the strength to deal with it. I am nursing the pain in my face today. Yesterday took a lot out of me, 4 hours driving the whole day away. It was nice to see GFs family with her daughter just out of the hospital. What a contrast between the two siblings. Daughter and Nardo, apparently he is jealous of his sister’s life and success and GF thinks he’s acting out his anger through his transgender decision. But he is confused as hell by thinking he can put the cart before the horse again and hold a PT job, while he flounders with himself into failure after failure. It’s like he wants to sabotage everything. GF is exhausted and is determined to find him subsidized housing somewhere sooner than later. She is networking through her wellness community to find him options. Working as a janitor at the airport is more than he can handle. He isn’t even able to get his resume in through the right channels with her motherly coaching. I think she knows that, she’s justifying to get his slack ass out of the house. She also found him a gig at the local playhouse handling lighting and stage effects. He’s good at acting like a jerk, so she finally may have found his calling. Although she maintains that he’s somehow going to become a seamstress. He’s trying, she says, only not fast enough for our liking. GF shops for bulk to help feed his face. He’s puts out the wrong garbage bucket on pickup days. I just watch time go by, day after day and wonder, when will I be set free of these anomalies? Hopefully before I die, so that I can still have a life.
Ah yes, there's that familiar sound of Nardo barking sargent order to invisible players on X-box in the morning...
So now that he’s destroyed a pot of leftovers from the last batch of things they cooked for him, he’s on to the next thing - Breakfast.
I can’t face looking at him. I need to have space today, not his dumbass tomfoolery in my face to remind me what a conundrum we are
saddled with. So I’ll wait to go make myself breakfast and hope he just goes away. And so it goes, on and on with this torturous soul.
dr. π (pi)
.
As I lay dreaming holding my face in pain, I smelled something burning coming from the kitchen at 4am.
Nardo's Back in Town
In a sleepy stupor I wander to the kitchen to see what the smell is going on, the lights are left on. A pan is left in the oven with the oven on 350*F with its contents burnt to an unrecognizable crisp, smelling up the house and waking me up with it pungent odour. Nardo has burnt a pan of something that smells like dead rottings from the Attack of the Killer Tomatoes. Nardo was downstairs sleeping at this point, forgetting his food in the oven, I turned off the heat and took the pan out of the oven and left it on the stove, so he would see it. It’s me and Nardo for a week and he’s off to a running halt.
Earlier last night I returned home from a day trip to take GF and food offerings to her daughter to help with the second new grandchild, who by the way is precious, as most babies go. Her first grandson is very excited to see Nana come for a visit. She brought him a “water baby” with a tub to help him fathom caring for his new brother. GF instinctually knows how to contribute to helping family. She brought over $500 in supplies and groceries to help them through getting used to the second baby. They live out on an acreage in the valley heading out towards Whistler, about a 2 hour trip or so one way. So 4 hours plus visiting time.
As I arrived home after dark last night, Nardo had just come home from his house sit at GFs friend. Seems like musical houses around here. I said hello, and he did make an effort of speaking back. He stood in the kitchen in his flower meggings, and curly black hair, trying to look girly I guess. I asked how his day was, and if he was done his house sit. He nodded yes, Then he quickly disappeared downstairs. I ran a bath and went to bed. Suddenly I am wakened from my sleep early this morning by the smell of something odd, I went down to find his abandoned midnight food project. I want to scream, but it would hurt my face. Sometimes I feel like I want to kill somebody, not to name any names..
Leviticus 1 : What were the characteristics of burnt offerings?
1) Personal, he uses our pots, our food and our kitchen
2) Cattle, he wastes good meat when he burns is
3) Male, not certain, he thinks he's female
4) Without Blemish, leaves mess behind
5) Voluntary, it appears to be involuntary
6) At the tabernacle, the kitchen stove
7) Physical touch, heavy handed
8) Atonement, none
9) Personally killed, he steals it all from the fridge by himself
10) Blood sprinkled, he really has no sense of sacrifice
11) Cut in pieces, yes chopped into gullet size pieces
12) Burned, of course, charred beyond recognition
13) Washed; for a sweet savour and dumped in the garbage
God had a detailed process
It’s morning and the pan is still on the stove where I left it earlier. I turned up the house heat and went back upstairs to meditate. He is now up in the kitchen throwing out the food and clunking pots washing up the evidence. When he leaves the kitchen I go down to make breakfast. There is a half pot of tea steeping for the kettle to boil and fill up his pot. He’s gone downstairs. He seems to be avoiding me as I am him. Dumbass. What can I say? The fucker just can’t function like most human beings. Frankly, neither can I.
I don’t have the strength to deal with it. I am nursing the pain in my face today. Yesterday took a lot out of me, 4 hours driving the whole day away. It was nice to see GFs family with her daughter just out of the hospital. What a contrast between the two siblings. Daughter and Nardo, apparently he is jealous of his sister’s life and success and GF thinks he’s acting out his anger through his transgender decision. But he is confused as hell by thinking he can put the cart before the horse again and hold a PT job, while he flounders with himself into failure after failure. It’s like he wants to sabotage everything. GF is exhausted and is determined to find him subsidized housing somewhere sooner than later. She is networking through her wellness community to find him options. Working as a janitor at the airport is more than he can handle. He isn’t even able to get his resume in through the right channels with her motherly coaching. I think she knows that, she’s justifying to get his slack ass out of the house. She also found him a gig at the local playhouse handling lighting and stage effects. He’s good at acting like a jerk, so she finally may have found his calling. Although she maintains that he’s somehow going to become a seamstress. He’s trying, she says, only not fast enough for our liking. GF shops for bulk to help feed his face. He’s puts out the wrong garbage bucket on pickup days. I just watch time go by, day after day and wonder, when will I be set free of these anomalies? Hopefully before I die, so that I can still have a life.
Ah yes, there's that familiar sound of Nardo barking sargent order to invisible players on X-box in the morning...
So now that he’s destroyed a pot of leftovers from the last batch of things they cooked for him, he’s on to the next thing - Breakfast.
I can’t face looking at him. I need to have space today, not his dumbass tomfoolery in my face to remind me what a conundrum we are
saddled with. So I’ll wait to go make myself breakfast and hope he just goes away. And so it goes, on and on with this torturous soul.
dr. π (pi)
.