Started psp8 lessons now. While the lessons may be similar to psp7 it is good practice for me and will help me learn that version of the program.

Just talked to a friend of mine. Her daughter's husband just died a couple weeks ago. He had a lung transplant but still didn't survive. Would of been nice had I known in time to send a card. She said send it anyway.

We ended up hashing over my mother's latest insert foot. If anyone thinks I shoot from the lip they have never met my mom. She told my sister that our daughter was probably in the hospital after trying to commit suicide. I didn't understand this, I told my sister who had passed on to mom what we knew. How did she come up with that?

Just recently someone asked me why I don't get along with my mother. I try, but it is a good thing we live here and she is on the East coast.

As I was growing up I thought my mother liked everyone but me. She was never proud of anything that I recall except the one time she said she wished she could afford singing lessons for me. She didn't seem to be putting me down as I recall.

I remember when I was in about the ninth grade and our Phys Ed class had an exhibition that required us to wear black skirts and white blouses. Mom wasn't about to make me a skirt and we didn't buy clothes for the most part. She went in to my sister's closet and pulled out a skirt. Since Nancy was so much taller she had to put a temp hem in it to fit me.

After the function I took the hem out, laundered and ironed the skirt and put it back in the closet. As Nancy and I were doing the dishes I told her I had put it back. She told me she didn't want it, I hadn't ask for it and I could just keep it. We got into an argument.

Nothing unusual for sisters two years apart, one of which that always ended on the defensive.

Before I knew what happened my mom came screaming out to the kitchen, stood dead in my face and said "I hate you so much I could kill you".  I was devastated. I don't ever remember hearing "I love you" from this woman's lips. When my husband and I married she said "if anything happens to your marriage he can come home but you can't".  In later years when I told her about this remark she said she was kidding. My mother didn't kid.

When my sister got pregnant out of wed lock she stood again in my face and said I would be watched like a hawk because I wasn't going to bring that shame on our family. I also remember when sis came home her trying to make her lose the baby by bumping her backside along the floor. I will give her credit for welcoming the little boy into the family though. While she may have disowned him as an adult she never did as a child.

When I visited home one year and asked to use the car to go to church I was told I could not tell anyone whose daughter I was. She didn't want them knowing her business. Now this is a small town, I look exactly like her and her mother. That hurt.

I had a lifetime of her making me feel inferior and people say I'm grown and should get over that now. Easier said than done. A child growing up with criticism learns to criticize as well as hurt from such. You all have seen that poem A child lives what he Learns I'm sure.

I was an adult before I learned that it wasn't just me that she found fault with, but everybody and everything. I said when my dad died she was going to be very lonesome as folks enjoyed being around him. She is.

I remember some things positive about her, artistic, sewed well, made my wedding dress and prom dress in fact. Helped me learn to sew. As a small child I remember her teaching us to lay on the grass and look at that sky and we all talked about what we saw in the clouds. I remember her showing me a tree trunk and the textures and colors of the wood. She taught us how to bake desserts, but she didn't teach me how to cook. I helped with the canning and freezing though.

The happier times were when the piano was in the kitchen and she played while sis and I did the dishes and we would harmonize. Sis and I while 2 years apart have birthday's days apart. We shared the party day. She would make a beautiful cake for us, and I remember one party she had she set up tables like a restuarant and all our little friends thought that was neat. She also put together neat Halloween costumes for the town parade.

I don't know when things started to go wrong. Nor do I know why. I just know I'm not ready to call her yet and may just write a letter. Well no, she doesn't like what I write about either.