That is not a typo or a virus. You read that title right and yes, this week it DOES belong on this page.
I wanted to write a post of woe, where I listed everything that had gone wrong in our little lives. Trouble is, I’d written that post before. More than once. For instance, Is My House Trying To Kill My Children? Or maybe you prefer this one about the plagues and the Exodus?
In a series of disasters, I come to you Live.
Or maybe I should say, alive. In this story, three out of the four members of my house almost died from different causes in a matter of a few days.
Most people seem to think that Archangels, being few, don’t spend any time with the little people.
The thing is, YOU are exactly like everyone else, and in angelspeak, they don’t play favorites. You are just as likely to get a visit from an angel as anyone else and have them show themselves to you or make you aware of their presence.
When I first started doing readings I connected more to Spirit Guides than I did to any angels. However every once in a while something would happen that was so unique, so different, so energetically powerful that I knew it was angelic in nature. Gradually, over time, I like many others began calling on certain light beings such as the ever-famous Archangel Michael when it seemed, well, necessary.
People will tell you that Archangels are so “far away” (energetically speaking) that we really can’t reach them. Maybe a representative or a “lower angel”, they’ll say, will help you out.
Well I don’t know about you but my feeling is that when I call on my angels for help, I appreciate the hell out of them because I can feel them and see their work in action and it is no small thing!
I even told my kid the other night, when he was afraid to walk through the dark house to get a snack from he refrigerator, that I’d loan him one of my guardian angels to walk him back and forth, and he STILL wouldn’t go. There’s a nonbeliever for you. But nonetheless I swear I heard a reply when I made the suggestion. Not repeating it.
So here was the week, just so you get the flavor. My kids came home from 5 days away at their grandparents’ house, with head lice. They made it for an entire school year with no lice, even when it was in their classroom, but send them to the grandparents and – fun, fun – here it comes. I woke up with my head entirely full of the little bugs. They walk around your head and eat your blood. Nice, huh?
Not nice – disgusting! I spent three days, four hours a day, picking lice and nits out of three heads. Fortunately for my husband, he’s bald, so he escaped. I had to do my own without being able to see what I was doing (not having eyes in the back of my head, contrary to popular belief).
The rest of the time I was doing laundry – wash on hot, dry on hot, shrinking everything - not knowing if I could safely put anything down on any surface once it was clean. It was a nightmare of How I Spent My Summer Vacation.
Usually I find quarters and dimes around my house but this time, every time I turned around I was finding pennies. I was wondering,”Who is sending me pennies??” as I always think of the dimes and the quarters as little hellos or gifts from the other side. I know who sends them, but I didn’t know who was sending the pennies as in seven years in this house I have never found them before.
So in the midst of the lice, they were laughing at us folks, because guess what came next?
That’s right! I guess you remember my previous reports. It was the fire ants. It had been deluging us with rain day after day and it was raining in my living room for three days (roof problem), when my husband called to say he’d just been bitten – in bed – by some odd bug he had never seen before. Internet searching ensued and it might have been an Assassin bug. Bugs, especially fire ants, will find their way inside during major rain events, looking for higher ground so they don’t drown.
My oldest kid showed me a bite on his wrist as he was going to bed. I said,”That looks like it might be a fire ant bite,” and, because of the lice situation, I slept in his bed with him.
No, it never crossed my mind that the two events might have been related.
At 2 am the dog woke me up to go out, and I changed rooms. My kid woke up too and went to sleep with his Dad and brother in the other room.
That little move saved his life.
The next morning we noticed he was COVERED with about 40 or 50 fire ant bites. They had invaded his bed in the night. There were hundreds of them in his bed, and maybe twenty in ours. We think the twenty may have come over with the kid in his pajamas.
If you are at all familiar with my kid or fire ants you will know that he has a tendency toward allergic reactions. That many fire ant bites can cause such a reaction. He didn’t have one.
My husband, who is deathly allergic to wasp stings and the like, came out of the event with two bites. One was on the head of his penis. Which blew up to several times its normal size. Ladies, you are thinking nothing of this I know (because I didn’t) but the men here will tell you that they are appalled.
During the last few days my husband’s 10 year old work truck which has 200,000 miles on it, gave up the ghost. This was a problem because although we do have one other truck, it’s transmission is blown. So, he had no way to transport his tools or get to work. And he’s the only one who makes money around here at present.
That week, my laptop broke. That was after my husband’s laptop broke, the ipad screen shattered, and my son’s computer broke. So if you’ve noticed I’ve largely been missing and I haven’t been commenting anywhere, that’s because I couldn’t.
The grass was really high on our property because the riding mower also – you guessed it – broke. So my husband broke out the ant killer and the bombs and took everything out of the kids rooms and told me to wash it all – in hot – again. You Have No Idea How Much Stuff There Is. I did 38 loads of laundry between the lice and the fire ant debacle and I am not done yet.
He told me to go into the backyard and spray with this chemical that hooks up to the hose. When I went to turn the faucet knob, which is metal, it broke off and crumbled in my hand.
I was holding the container out two feet away from me and finally I read the directions and ingredients. IT WAS THE EXACT SAME CHEMICAL THAT I JUST PUT ON MY HEAD AND THE KIDS HEADS TO KILL THE LICE. So I guess I didn’t have to be afraid of it – it was already in my system and, I might add, DID NOT WORK ON ME. Because someone must have thought it would be more fun if I combed out all of my below shoulder length hair every day for a week without benefit of being able to see what I was doing. Just because, you know, I had nothing else to do.
So some of you at this point are thinking,”Move already!” and I will tell you that I am trying, and have been for over a year, but our contract also fell through a few weeks before that, another is in place, and goodness only knows what will happen. For the moment we are stuck here.
So as my husband is spraying around the outside perimeter of the house, and after he found the fire ant hill, I watched him walk by the Peace plant and thought,”Wasps usually nest in there when it’s blooming.” Before I could open my mouth, he was stung. They were swarming him and all I could do is say,”RUN!!!!!” which he adeptly did, hopping two fences in the process. He only had one bite.
Well I guess it was the combination of the Assassin bug, the fire ant, and the wasp venom, because only three bites later he seemed okay with the Benadryl in him but I got a phone call the next day. No he wasn’t dead, but the GC ordered him off the job and to the health clinic because when the Benerdyl wore off his arm swelled to three times its normal size, and not even where the wasp stung him.
So at the health clinic they asked him if he minded letting the intern give him the cortisone shot, for practice, and he broke the cardinal rule and said yes. Then they told him the shot was in his behind. Apparently she didn’t know you’re supposed to slowly put the medicine in and – too late! – she jammed it right in there, pronto. He said the shot hurt more than his penis, which was apparently saying something. He limped for three days afterward.
Then, he had a reaction to the steroids they gave him.
In the middle of all of this he was renting a work truck at $75/day and about a week had gone by. We cannot get an auto loan because our perfect credit was destroyed. Because I lost my job. And because we could no longer make the house payments that my job was funding. You see how all of this is adding up, right?
So guess what happened?
Someone offered to buy him a work van.
Yes, they did.
I’d like to call that person an angel but they probably wouldn’t appreciate it. So.
He went to buy this truck while he was still all messed up from the medication gone wrong. After the dust settled and he could go back to the job he was unloading two sets of bench passenger seats to make room for the tools. I tried to help him and got my wrist caught (because I’m coordinated like that). As he did the last one by himself to spare my back, I said a little prayer and asked for a blessing for his safety. I usually do that every day, but this time something told me that we needed the big guns so I asked Archangel Michael to whitelight the van, my husband’s work, and my husband, for the length of time he would have this vehicle in service.
And don’t you know, while he was moving that last seat into the garage, a penny flew out of it and hit me on the head.
I’ve saved it in a baggie marked “_____’s Truck Luck” and put it in the box with the Tooth fairy’s booty and such.
I’ve also asked for the right resolution to our housing situation at the right and perfect time and place. I’ll keep you posted.
And that is what Archangel Michael has to do with penises. To my knowledge.
Postscript: You know why there is no photo to accompany this article…right?