From Sunny Days to Stormy Nights-Life Can Be Like That

Old Betsy hauled the load just fine. That 292 engine is what they call a stump puller”.

A beautiful day yesterday; sunny and hot. this was at 3 in the afternoon.

A beautiful day yesterday; sunny and hot. this was at 3 in the afternoon.

Never have I seen a storm happen so fast.

Never have I seen a storm happen so fast.

Notice the trees in the background

Notice the trees in the background

Between the wind, limited visibilty and debris on the road it was a tough drive home.

Between the wind, limited visibilty and debris on the road it was a tough drive home.

Trees were falling so suddenly you really had to be on your toes.

Trees were falling so suddenly you really had to be on your toes.

You couldn't see the bridge let alone the mountains that surround us

You couldn’t see the bridge let alone the mountains that surround us

The picture of my truck was taken at about 3 pm yesterday, it had been a sunny day and quite hot. Jim the friend who lets me live in his trailer has a bunch of stuff stored out at Paul’s farm and Paul was told by the city that he has till the end of the month to have the property cleaned up or they will do it and charge him for it. I like Paul, he is a very soft spoken small man who walks with his hands clasp behind his back, always wears a toque 12 months out of the year and I think that he wears the same rain coat he’s worn since the day I first met him. He always refers to Jim as, “The Jim.” As in, “Have you seen the Jim today?”

Paul is East Indian and he and I have discussed his culture a few times, one thing I truly admire about his culture is how they all live together and share the work load. They take care of their own, which is the way of many nationalities, mainly it is us in North America that are so “advanced” in our thinking that we have daycares to raise our children and care facilities to tend to our elderly. I asked him once what happens if one of the family members is just plain lazy and doesn’t do anything and lives off of the hard work of the others and he looked at me and laughed; “It doesn’t happen,” he said, “everyone works”. There are some things about their culture I don’t agree with but as with anything, religion, politics, or personal values; there isn’t one I can think of that I agree with 100%. I am not saying they don’t have problems with their teens, drugs, gangs, and all the rest of the problems many people have with their teens; but from where I sit I think their children must benefit from having so many people around them who love them and care for them. Their children don’t come home to an empty house; someone is always around, an aunt, uncle, or sibling if not a parent.

They also believe you take care of your neighbor and if your neighbor is hungry you share what you have; anyone regardless of beliefs, nationality or social standing can go to one of their temples and eat any time.

Paul has several blue berry farms and a small family so extended family has moved in to help with the labour and he is letting me living in Jim’s trailer on one of the farms; I just have to pay my hydro bill.

One thing I always hear from East Indians is how hard I work, but you know they work hard too but they do it at a must slower pace than we do. they walk slowly, ponder situations before attempting to do something, they all stand looking at a problem discussing it at great length before anyone attempts to fix it; then they try to fix it for a day or two and then they call Jim and he does it for them. Haha but they do have a different approach to life, a much more laid back and peaceful approach.

Paul has told me how he came here with $10 in his pocket and ½ of everything he made he saved and he worked hard at various jobs until he was able to buy the first farm. Paul hasn’t had an easy life. I knew him before his son died tragically; his son’s death took the life out of Paul. Parm, his son was a good kid, who’d had some trouble with drugs but was getting his life back on track and had moved back home. JC was always storing something at Paul’s so we got to know Parm quite well, he was always smiling, and always the first one to jump up and say, “Let me help.” You could tell Paul was proud of him and so pleased to have his boy back, but when he lost him a part of Paul died with Parm. You can see the pain on his face, in his eyes; the light went out, the joy left him. When someone’s pain is so evident, even years later, it can be hard to look at him some days without breaking down and crying.

I was at the farm yesterday helping Jim clean up his crap, and I do mean crap; this man is a hoarder! But I enjoy hard work, I enjoy helping out and easing Paul’s mind and it was a sunny day plus I could make a few bucks doing it. After I left the scrap yard I stopped to pick up a choker chain for Laila and a new leash for Kato and something told me to buy candles. I told the dogs I would take them for a walk as soon as I was done shopping and then I was going to go back to the farm and work some more. It was about 3:30 when we headed out for our walk and by 3:45 black clouds rolled in and the rain started. I took the pictures of the rain at 4:00 pm that’s how fast we went from a beautiful hot day to dark skies and monsoon like winds and rain. Laila cowered next to me uncertain of what was happening. The rain was pelting in Kato’s window so he almost climbed on my lap.

I had a hard time keeping the truck on the road without a load on the wind was pushing it around pretty good, trees were down across the road in places and the mountains disappeared behind the dark foreboding clouds. The rain came down so hard and suddenly the drains couldn’t keep up and rain formed rivers that flowed down hill and in the flat areas lakes formed. The vehicles were making 10 foot high rooster tails as they went down the road. The roads were busy too, it seemed most of the traffic was going in the opposite direction of me and I couldn’t help wondering if they knew something I didn’t; Like I missed an important public announcement to evacuate the town. By the time we got “home” the power was out and stayed out until sometime in the wee of hours of the morning, luckily I bought candles and the puppies and I were snuggled into bed by 11:30.

I always read a blog called Lou shares a lot of informative material on the state of the world, the impending new world order, the Iluminati, Chemtrails, the inevitable economic collapse of the world, humanity or lack of it in the world and other thought provoking topics. After 9/11 JC got into researching a lot of these topics and to be honest it is one of the things I miss the most about him. like a lot of people I took “their” word that it was a terrorist attack, thought how horrible it was and then went on with life but it was because of JC’s research that I first heard about conspiracy theories, chemtrails, cover-ups etc, we could talk, watch videos, exchange beliefs and concerns for hours on end. I always felt that no matter what happened in the world I would be ok as long as I was with JC. We could have moved up into the mountains and survived because he was/is so talented at McGyver’ing things.

Sometimes I thought the struggles we had financially were happening because of some preparation for what was yet to come. We lived in some horrible condition and the sole reason I was able to survive it was because I was with him and I felt safe, I felt together, we could overcome any adversity put in our path. Last night when the world turned dark and scary I felt very alone.

Prior to JC I was naïve, ignorant of world affairs, believed what I read in the newspapers and believed if a person works hard they will always be ok; if they lead honest lives they will be ok, if they are honest, faithful, fair, and charitable, they will receive the same back and they will be ok. I know differently now, and it’s hard to give up the belief that everyone has good in them and there is a happy ending eventually. I had never had to do without in my life, not really do without. Not having designer clothes is not “doing without” even as a child we were lower middle class I suppose and worked our way up to middle class, I would say my mom and brother would fit in the lower upper class or upper middle class now and I am not sure I even make it to lower lower class.

This isn’t my life, when I met JC I had my gel nails manicured every week, I paid to have my hair cut, dyed and styled, I bought my clothes in a department store not Value Village and I had the big house, the white picket fence, 5 bedrooms, the formal living room, the Dodge Caravan, a Border Collie, and I baked Chocolate chip cookies for all my son’s friends. I cooked Christmas dinner for a dozen family and friends, I decorated the house from stem to stern for every holiday, I bought $100 hanging baskets for my sundeck and people were in awe of my Halloween display that got more gruesome every year. I bought a fixer upper and sold it, made money and invested in a bigger house, sold it and made money, I was moving up the ladder just as they say you should. I had the RRSP’s, a dental plan, I gave to charities that help people like me now.

Part of the reason I don’t see any of my old friends is because they couldn’t possibly relate to my life now or understand the abuse and control JC had over me. I know I wouldn’t, had I not lived it. One of the things that would upset me with JC was he seemed to accept his lot and make do no matter where we ended up. He didn’t want to improve our situation, and I couldn’t settle, I had to make things better. I would do what I could to make any place we lived more comfortable and “homey” but I was always striving for better. He could live anywhere, without any of the amenities and appear quite content, but not me. He used to say I was inflexible, too negative, worried too much, had high expectations and that I was never satisfied. I didn’t and still don’t think I had unreasonable expectation. Running water, a bathtub with bubbles and hot water, clean clothes, a stove to cook on, a vehicle that runs, and I was willing to work for it.

I don’t need a lot to be happy, I didn’t like my big house, my son and I lived in about 500 sq ft of it and the other 2300 sq ft got vacuumed and dusted and used maybe half a dozen times a year when we had guests. I much preferred my little cabin at the lake. I like myself better now that I am not judgmental, gave up drinking and learned to cut my own hair. I am more confident in many ways I think and much quicker to say hi to a stranger or help some one in need.

I thought JC and I had that in common, its a big thing, but when we split up what does he do? he finds a woman, a widow, who has everything I had not long ago, he drives her car, they holiday in her summer cabin on Nelson Island (I used to holiday in Parksville where my folks own condos at Tigh-na-Mara), I hear they are taking a train to Whistler and staying at the Fairmont hotel some time soon, he just bought himself a project truck and is doing a complete off frame restoration of a 61 Chev pickup, he’s bought himself a motorcycle and he has a F450 flat deck with the winch that was supposed to be mine mounted on it. He stole my life, how did he/why did he? There was no need, he could have left me if I couldn’t provide what he wanted, He could have left me with something left to start over with. Destroying my F550 didn’t benefit him in any way; all it did was make it impossible for me to continue to be successful with my business, it dropped me down a bracket, took me out of the game, eliminated me from the big money jobs. That is a narcissist’s way of thinking though, I found out too late; in their minds the only way they can be successful is if you aren’t. He calls himself successful now, but he didn’t earn one dime of what he is spending, he hasn’t held a job for more than a couple of months and been off work for 4-5 months of the last year and a half. I know now he came back to me because I was doing well on my own and he wasn’t, he had to make sure I would never recoup from my relationship with him. What a warped evil mind.

I don’t deny him a good life, and if he can get it by living off of a woman, so be it. I feel sorry for her because he will destroy her also, unless she has an endless supply of cash, then it could last forever. It could last 10-15 years at least and it will unless she has some big mean brother who will kick JC to the curb because he will never leave her as long as she has anything left. That’s not to say he won’t make her life hell or that he’ll be faithful or she won’t want him gone; it just means he won’t leave. When he came to apologize to me I told him about some of the stuff I’d been reading on Lou’s blog and it was as if he’d never had an interest in it at all. He said he doesn’t concern himself with that shit. Must have been my imagination again.

Funny how a sunny day can change so quickly and how life can do the same.

Posted by Carrie the Lady Witha Truck

3 thoughts on “From Sunny Days to Stormy Nights-Life Can Be Like That

    1. ladywithatruck Post author

      You know Michael I have been thinking a lot about this post and what it is that actually upsets me because I am not about toys and showing off; never have been. When I did have the big house it was a lot of work and I missed my tiny cabin at the lake. I have always been happier in the country and in a small cozy home.

      I don’t envy JC, or his new woman; I don’t miss him at all. It’s nice to not have to walk on egg shells or worry about who he is going to piss off next. Its so nice to not have to worry about what he is doing to my truck or how he will screw up something for me. I don’t even lock my truck at night any more.

      What makes me angry is that he criticized me for not being flexible enough, for not being adaptable and now he is using a woman for her money and suck holing so he can milk her for everything he can get. It’s sickening.

      And he always pretended to care so much about people in need, the world situation, we never drove past a broken down car without stopping to see if we could help the person. I loved that about him, I loved that he was concerned about the impoverished. And it was all an act. When I look back now I can see so many times it was me doing it and him taking the credit but at the time to me it was “us”.

      That he purposely and methodically destroyed my business and me in the process is so totally cruel, and totally unnecessary. It is so evil. I can’t think of one person I hate that much that I would ever do that to them.

      I had put 6 yrs into building that business up; I can and will survive but he took away so many of my options. He put me back at square one or negative 2 because I had debt and when I started my business I was debt free and getting unemployment benefits and I had more support from my family.

      But you are right; the man does not have integrity and that is something he can’t take away from me. And I think that pissed him off. No matter how tough things got no matter how he operated I stuck to my principles and never compromised my integrity so he had to bring me down to his level somehow and I guess he thought the only way was through my business. I never thought of it before thank you.


      1. The Heretic

        And you have every right to hate him for everything he has put and taken from you. You deserve that right, and no one can say otherwise.

        He can flaunt everything he wants to rub it in front of the nose of you and everyone else he has screwed over, but after a while it will all catch up to him. I am pretty sure the friends he has made has either become disgusted in him, or hate his guts, and that will eventually catch up to him.

        And while he tries desperately to run from everything, you and those who were put on the shit end of the stick by him will be sitting in the catbird seat, and there won’t be a damn thing he can do about it.



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