My Lack of Will-Power

I do not have the will-power to give people the cold shoulder.  It's tremendously effective, if being insulting, spiteful, and boorish is what you're aiming for, but I just don't have the will-power to pull it off myself.  The best individual I've ever seen at this stunt was my ex-mother-in-law.  Honest to gawds, she was so good at pretending I wasn't there, I almost wondered myself a few times (maybe I'm not really sitting here in the same room with this woman, maybe I'm hallucinating). 

I tried it, this cold-shoulder tactic, like once when I had to go to my ex-husband's aunt's funeral, but it is *So Hard* for me to do this.  There I was, in the middle of enemy territory, surrounded by oodles of people who either despised me or didn't know me, and I had to keep saying to myself, "Don't look!...Don't do it...no, no, no. Look at that spot on the wall, keep your eyes on the bouquet, look at your plate-- head down...Don't look over there!"  It was awful.  I'm really lousy at this type of thing.  I think I just basically don't understand it.

I'm just too damn curious to ignore anyone.  I want to look at them; I want to ask questions; I want to know how life's been treating them, what they're up to, how they're doing.  I'm amazed at the way some, ummm, what should we call them?..."Ignorers"?...Can suddenly, completely, without warning, just cut someone out of their lives, never to hear from them ever anymore.  Not me, uh-huh.  By gawds, if I know you, I'll be thinking about you until the cows come home.

Photo Blog: Home Again, Home Again, Jiggety-Jog

This is one of the walking trails at Fremont Lakes-- the morning I took this, it was just Joe and me, the hot sun, Sophie (the dog), and my camera.  Joe couldn't walk the trail (broken foot), but was sitting on the dock fishing-- heavy metal music blaring away.  Even though it was still pretty early morning, the temperature was in the 90s, humidity in the 80s, and the only thing keeping me from a hard sweat was the shade that you see on the trail.  After I rounded a bend, the shade was gone, and I said to myself, forget this crap (truth is, I don't like to sweat, and I don't appreciate the hot sun on my little white girl skin).

Our apple trees are loaded, and I mean *Loaded*.  I've never seen this many apples on the trees before.  The limbs are hanging to the ground, moaning with the weight.  The girls love to take a blanket out and spread it beneath the canopy.  They feel like they're all cloistered in the middle of a woods, hidden in the leaves and the cool shady spots; and the dog and the cats come to them there, slinking onto the blanket, gathering together. 

As I look at this picture, I'm thinking, "It's all about getting all your ducks in a row."...that's it.  This isn't what I was thinking about the day I shot this photo; I was simply concentrating on getting the lineup in focus, but now, this makes sense.  As a pagan, an occultist, a spiritual feminist, I'm always looking for divine messages in the natural mundane things of the world.  That's what this is about, for Joe and me, with issues and responsibilities coming up-- "Make sure you've got all your ducks in a row."

The message here?...Even out of something rotten, good things will grow.

And that's the truth.

Mundanely speaking, I know people who go mushroom hunting, but I'm not among them.  I couldn't identify a poisonous mushroom from an edible mushroom if my life depended on it...and yes, that pun was intended.  But I think they're pretty.

There's cactus scattered all over the grassy areas along the walking trails at the lakes.  Our neighbor was surprised by this, stating that he thought cactus only grows like this out in the Sandhills.  And the moral of this story?...with enough stubborness, strength, and determination, you can plant yourself anywhere and thrive.

 

 

Thumper, oh ya...silly thing is so use to people that I was fairly close to it, and it could've cared less.  I see so many dogs out at the lakes with their owners, I'm surprised this rabbit wasn't a little more cautious than it was.  Lessons? Ummm-- finding a balance between predator and prey; a shaky truce; learning to trust after being taken for a ride; throwing caution to the wind...but the most important lesson-- be still and listen.

 

 

Hibiscus, blossoming in one of our flower beds this year.  Beautiful, isn't it.  I save the dried blossoms to use in mojo bags, oils, spell crafting, and the like-- for love and passion.  Did you know that in some parts of the Orient it's illegal to serve women hibiscus tea because it's believed to be a powerful aphrodisiac.  I have yet to personally test this theory.  I think next year I'm going to transplant the hibiscus to the flower bed in the front yard-- more sun.

This is what's been blooming at our house...

My husband loves the morning glories that grow up and around the back-porch deck.  He told me that as a child he walked to a babysitter's house after school.  He said that the house was easy for him to find because it had morning glories growing in the front yard, and this is what he watched for.  He told me that when he saw these flowers, he knew he was home.

 

(A photo taken the beginning of the summer season)

 To market, to market, to buy a fat pig,
 Home again, home again, dancing a jig;
 To market, to market, to buy a fat hog;
 Home again, home again, jiggety-jog;
 To market, to market, to buy a plum bun,
 Home again, home again, market is done.

 

~ Mother Goose

 

Memoir: It is what it is...Vacation (June 1991)

(Saturday, June 23, 1991)

Terrible vacation.  Started out so hectic.  left at 11:30am, after spending all morning making trip after trip to the van loaded down with clothes and food and all the paraphernalia that goes with two small children.

Overcast and cool, hazy.  Stands of tall trees, mushroomed with green leaves.  John screaming in the car seat.  D won't pull over so I can take him out and nurse him, so I nurse him while he sits in the car seat! (He's sleeping now.)

Anne threw a frightful tantrum before we left.  It began in the front yard when she saw a little boy's kite.  She is transfixed with it and wants one, has talked of nothing else for two days.

Everyone piled into the van.

12:26pm...Both children resting quietly. D's mother in the last seat.  Pillows for Anne to lay her head on-- still strapped in to her youth seat, though.

2:22pm...Delicious lunch in Yankton (SD), green salad and sandwich.  The sun trying to break through now.  I changed John and fed him.  Everyone feeling much better.

 

Monday...went to Madison (SD) to Lois and Loren's. 

Different impressions:  on the way, both children sleeping in their car seats, heads tilted to the side.  D's mother in the last seat again, behind them.  Narrow, two-laned highways, occasional curves, expanses of green pastures with an occasional small herd of cattle clumped together, tails swishing away at the flies.  Clumps of trees at shelterbelts.

Lois, looking very tired around the eyes, but happy to see us.  Soft as always-- soft blond hair, soft blue eyes, soft white skin, and her lovely gentle soft voice.

Quaint house:  harmonious, something about it making me think of an earlier era-- the oval, beveled glass in the front door, the wood trim running around the living room wall a foot from the ceiling, the small rooms coming into and out of one another.

Loren and the college campus...Loren in tie and shirt.  The hum of computers, the rustic old  buildings, the beautiful library, the nudes in pencil on the wall.  Walking across campus-- tall evergreen trees and flowers and neatly mowed lawns, and I thinking the whole time of John and Anne, who were crying when we left them.  (And when we got back, they were quiet and serene and perfectly content!!)

The drive home in the evening:  lovely green fields, different shades of green, and haze and mist laying in the little valleys and shelterbelts.  A haze and far off on the horizon a lavender ridge, separated from us by vivid green valleys.  The sun going down, one minute hiding behind bands of clouds, the next emerging again, a vivid large orange, almost a Harvest Moon quality to it, lovely.  Anne enthralled.

Almost dark when we got home.  It was a beautiful drive, a lovely evening.

 

 

Aunt Laura's & Uncle Ed's:

The table was beautifully set-- dainty bowls of salads, and clear pitchers of red juice, and strong dark coffee.

Aunt Laura, immaculate as always, earrings and necklace, and white slacks, and hair freshly permed.  Uncle Ed standing at the stove stirring gravy!...tall, and his eyes bulging a bit, giving a startled look to his face.

The children were pretty good, between D and I we kept them fairly content and out of things.  It helped that Aunt Laura had the house swept almost completely clear of knick-knacks.  Anne sat up to the table and ate beautifully. I was very proud.

 

Ernie & Irene's:

Irene, nervous and shaky as usual.  The lovely living room *Cold* from the air-conditioner.  The children best kept in the kitchen.  Their German Shepherd pacing his pen.  Irene showed us the upstairs...five lovely bedrooms.  The upstairs *Very* hot.  Ernie the same as always, obviously delighted with the kids.

Roger & Debbie:

Debbie very pretty and summery looking with short, cropped hair.  her look of surprise when we drove in, red bandana on her head.

John played quietly on the living room floor with toys, Anne with Colton and Mandy (Roger & Deb's children)-- upstairs and then outside for a while.  I get Anne to come in and cool off.  My white shoes get filthy traipsing through the weeds and dirt, looking at horses and dogs!

There is very little real "girl-talk".  I am disappointed.  She talks horse with D, "man" talk, breeding and prices and sales and bloodlines, etc.  And they are going to be building a new log home and selling their farm.  So more (of what I call) "man" talk-- lots and prices and construction and pole barns, etc.

We come and go to these places so quickly, an hour and a half at each place.  I feel that a connection is barely made, something almost left incomplete when we leave.  Strange feeling.

Tom & Janice's house:

It was a 'lost' evening.  Janice had wanted us to do something as a couple and leave D's mother there with the children.  Her house is wall to wall knick-knacks and crystal!  John turned out to be crabby, and I spent the evening giving both babies their baths in her tub.  There was a gas leak, and Tom was gone downstairs with the repairman most of the time.

Almost all I can say of this visit is that we got to see Tom and Janice before we left.  I really didn't get to talk to her at all.

Vern & Tracy's:

It begins noisily.  Anne crabby and crying and wanting on my lap, John wanting on my lap to nurse at the same time!  Very, very hot.  One small fan, no windows open, no air-conditioning.  Very soon Anne's head looks as though she's had a bucket of water poured over her hair.  I suggest we go out and see Vern's new horse-- more to get some fresh air and the breeze.  Even though it's very hot outside, it's still cooler than in the house, and it perks the children up.

The horse, a lovely dainty sorrel mare.  Cows in the pen beside her, aloof.  Vern's little golf cart, shiny and silvery blue, and the plastic seat is very hot!

The visit ends too quickly, as usual, but on a pleasant note-- a lovely lunch...iced tea; potato salad; and ham sandwiches; lemon jello with pineapple; and home canned pickles; afterwards hot coffee and homemade cookies (even in the heat, Tracy's coffee was good).

I think they are remarkable, Vern and Tracy, to be 85 and 86 years old, and still so independent and healthy and active.

____________________

 

This post has been taken, literally, from my diary pages, with very little or almost no editing.  It was written on the fly, at still moments during the experience, and I didn't want to lose this feeling.

 

 

Memoir: The Electrical Storm

(Sunday, July 27th, 1997)

Very early this morning we had a terrific electrical storm.  When the electricity in the house went out, I grabbed my flashlight and went downstairs to help Anne and John come upstairs (it was pitch dark down there).  They were pretty frightened.  The storm was pretty impressive.

I put them on the floor with pillows in Beth and Laura's room.  All 5 of us (me & the kids) were in there.

At one point the lightening triggered a battery operated toy in the hallway, which played a little tune...then silence.  I could feel the hair on my arms beginning to stand on end (weird sensation).  There was another hiss of thunder-- and it really "hissed", like something hot or angry.  A brilliant bolt of lightening triggered the smoke detector, which gave a few surprised little beeps.

In the darkness, punctuated by bright white streaks of lightening, I heard Beth's little voice speaking to Anne:  "I sure am g'wad you're laying beside me, or I'd be scared."

This Is Where We're Sitting Right Now (Part 2)

It was towards the end of winter or early spring.  There was a casting call for a real live witch wanted for a reality tv show.  I thought for about two minutes and then contacted the casting director with my information.  Time is a fuzzy thing for me, so I don't remember how long it was exactly before he contacted me, or at that point it was actually his assistant, but it amounted to two or three weeks.

(We're still sitting in limbo on this thing, so I don't know how much info I can divulge, or would be allowed to divulge.  Just to be on the safe side, I'm not going to name the casting company, the casting director, or the network.)

Anyway, we received a call from the casting company, who seemed very interested, and we set up a time for the whole family to participate in a taped interview.  This was done over Skype (gotta' love technology).  It was a hoot.  It went on about four hours, one after the other of us sitting down in the chair, ahead of the camera, facing the director..."Don't look directly at me," he said, "Look directly into the camera when you're answering a question."  We were also not suppose to use pronouns, but to answer the question in complete sentences so when he edited the tape it would be very clear what we were talking about.  He also taught us a few hand signals-- the motions for 'wrap it up', more enthusiasm, cut, etc.

He told us that they usually don't allow other family members around when one is being interviewed, but they wanted to see how we interacted with each other.  It was actually a riot.  Little Emma was really shy and didn't want to talk to the director at first, until my daughter's boyfriend (whom Emma adores) picked her up, sweeping her off her feet, sitting her in the chair ahead of the camera; I handed Emma her cat, which she held during the process. (The casting director was absolutely terrific, he put Emma at ease within minutes.)

John (my son) came to the table for his turn, all 6' 2" of him with his super long hair and waxed mustache.  The director:  "There's a lot of girls out here (California) who would appreciate you."  "I'll keep that in mind." John shot back.

Beth (one of my daughters) was asked how honest and open we are with communication.  Can we talk about intimate things?  Give me an example of something your mother has told you.  Beth:  "My mom told me never to brush my teeth with mint toothpaste and give my boyfriend a blow job."...at this the director had a shocked looked on his face for a split second, burst into laughter, threw his arms in the air, and literally disappeared off his chair.

It was several weeks later that I received a call from the casting director.  He was over-the-moon excited.  He told me that the network loved our interview and we were in the top running against two or three other families for a new reality show.  There was one more hitch-- when the first interview was taped, Joe and my daughter Laura were working.  They missed out.  The casting director set up a date to tape them.

Joe had finally agreed to the interview (which at first he didn't want to do), the day came, and he went through it like a pro.  Then there was Laura-- she was in a bad mood that day and decided she wasn't going to do it.  The director was aghast.  It took us over three hours to persuade her to sit down for the interview-- the director was beside himself, running his hands through his hair, cajoling, convincing, pleading:  "She has no idea what's at stake here," he said.  "Financially, this has the potential to be big, really, big; it could change your life."

She finally agreed.  They talked.

The interview was completed.

Now we wait.

We've all said that if nothing comes from this, the experience itself was really cool.  How many people can say they've been interviewed for their own television show, it was a hoot.  We had fun, and it will be something to tell our grandkids about.  Life is full of surprises...but, just in case, we're keeping our fingers crossed.

This Is Where We're Sitting Right Now

This year has been a hoot-- you have no idea.  It began with Joe and the wild-boy untamed energy that he brought to the table, which culminated in our unexpected elopement on a whirlwind Friday afternoon, June 7th.  It started with a 'to-do' list for the day.  Things like 1) stop by the insurance office 2) pick up marriage license 3) pick up Joe's wedding band at Zales 4) stop at Next Millennium...there were two or three other 'things-to-do' that I can't remember now, but I do remember that Joe had to go to work that day at 3pm, and we were on a tight time schedule.

We were finally through the stuff to be done in Fremont and had picked up Joe's ring at Oakview Mall in Omaha, when we looked at each other-- we had the rings, we had the license, I knew that Charlie (the owner of Next Millennium) was legally ordained to do weddings.  We were laughing most of the time, stopped at a gas station for some energy drinks, and then said, why not-- we headed to NM to see if Charlie would be able to perform an impromptu ceremony.

"Charlie," we asked, "How short is the short version of a wedding and would you be able to do it now?"

We were standing nonchalantly in front of the store counter, laughing and talking with Charlie and Nikki and a customer.  Charlie asked us several times if we were marrying of our own free will...yes, we assured him...and he would ask again, two or three times.  Finally he said, "Okay, you're married!"

I clapped my hands to my face in utter surprise and said, "Are you serious?!"

Yup, he was.  And that's how easy that was.  Nikki and the female customer were our two witnesses.

 

Memoire: Golden Child

(May 1997)

Laura Jo…she is our little “golden child”. She is almost unbearably sweet. Green eyes always twinkling, a ready smile, quick to laugh out loud. Her fuzzy blonde hair glistens in the sun.

I look out once this spring-- she is silhouetted under the apple tree in early morning sunshine, bent down, ready to pick a dandelion, her hair a golden halo.

I try to mentally ‘imprint’ the picture in my memory so I won’t forget.

4th of July Weekend in Photos

The following are slideshows I created at Smilebox with photos taken this weekend:  Friday, July 5th; and photos taken this morning...Sunday, the 7th.  This is our first fourth of July together (Joe & I & the kids), and this is the first time these kids have ever gone fishing-- they *Love* it, including little Emma.  Admittedly, there's a lot of screaming going on when a fish is actually caught, but it's getting better; and not everyone has nerve enough to bait their own hooks-- which keeps Joe busy.  But it makes for a peaceful and wonderful way to spend time together...

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This slideshow design created with Smilebox

Memoire: "My Face is a Little Rougher"

John's 7th Birthday...

The night before: He gives me big hugs and kisses every time I turn around. (The last time, when I'm six," he says).

This morning he is exuberant, expectant:

"I think I look a little different this morning," he says.

"My face is a little rougher," he says, rubbing his cheeks with his hands.

I'll be damned...

...there's always one rotten apple hiding in the barrel.  No matter what you're trying to accomplish, no matter what you're trying to straighten out, you'll have a troublemaker attempting to throw roadblocks in your direction.  The most you can do is persevere; the best you can do is beat them at their own game; the very best you can do is to beat them magickally, because the Universe will their kick ass like no one else can.

...when someone has you cornered (figuratively speaking), I was told to go with my first instinct because it's usually the right choice.  You also don't want to give up, lessen your efforts, or turn your back; don't give your enemy an advantage.

...the word 'hate'.  Someone was told that "that's a pretty strong word".  Well, yes it is-- that's the point.  The responder replied:  "What's the opposite of love?"......point made.  It's okay to 'hate' someone; it's a good honest, kick in the ass emotion.  Christians can get all fucked up over the use of this word and the reality of this emotion, but damn it, sometimes it fits the bill to a T.

...be gone troublemaker, sez I. *wicked grin*

Okay, now for the positive side of the coin:

...the man who makes you laugh is the man you want to keep. Everything else will fall into place; and if he knows, right from jump street, where to touch your funny bone, he'll learn where all the other important parts of you are as well.

...admire the individual who doesn't give up in the face of adversity; who never backs down from a good fight (especially when it's for "the principle of the thing"); and who can do it on his own, but asks for your help and support anyway.

...soul mates. I was told that it might take a life time to find your soul mate, and if you've been burned in a few bad relationships from the beginning, those relationships were 'learning experiences', so that when you finally hit it right, there would be no comparison-- and no doubt.

The Moral Compass...it was spinning

The following excerpt is from a letter that I wrote to my then sister-in-law in December 1988.  We were both raised in the Catholic Church, products of Catholic parochial school, and she wanted to know what I believed.  We were sending a flurry of letters back and forth, feeling each other out, trying to get to know each other.  She was a very religious person.  At the time I wrote this, I had still not discovered the Goddess, but I was 'coloring outside the lines', so to speak.  The spiritual metamorphosis was in progress, but there was still a lot of thinking to wade through and episodes of discovery coming up:
____________________

Monday, December 12, 1988......

I believe that every human being carries the capability of both good and evil:  Some people say that God gave us a choice in this matter; but I often wonder how much "circumstance" influences this.

I believe there are very basic rules of right and wrong:  But should all the rules always be solid and completely unbendable?  Some of them, yes-- the Ten Commandments, or at least most of them-- thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not steal...etc.  Be good to people, don't hurt anyone.  This is such basic decency.  I don't know if the average person needs to belong to a conventional religious organization to know these things, or to believe them, or to obey them. 

But what about some of the other rules, the ones which simply can't be cut so black and white?  Fornication?  There is such an enormous difference between blazon promiscuity and giving yourself to one person out of love.  The first is so apparently wrong; how can the second be wrong too?  I don't feel they are the same thing, so should the same rule apply?

It is a dilemma.  It is confusing.  There are definite needs in our society for rules of humanity and decency; but where should all the lines be drawn?  It sounds so elementary sitting in catechism class at twelve years old.  Everything is made so simple-- right or wrong, black or white.  But life isn't like that.  Life comes in shades of gray.  You have to follow your heart in lots of places.

I believe in some sort of afterlife:  Sometimes I'm not sure if I'm altogether right on this assumption, but I go on believing it anyway.  Maybe this-- the hope of some sort of immortality is the basic reason for religion.  We have to believe in "life after death" or "resurrection" or "reincarnation", otherwise the finality of death would make life almost unbearable.

At one time, Gramma told me that she didn't believe in the afterlife.  She believed that when a person died, that was it.  Death was the ultimate end.  But during her final illness, faced with the reality of her own death, she grasped desperately at the hope of something (what?).  She began taking communion, confession, took her rosary to the hospital with her.  Her actions at that time were a kind of statement for everyone...faced with death, we clutch and grasp pathetically for life.

I don't believe you have to attend a formal church service to be a spiritual person:  I find myself less spiritual in church.  I have never cared for church services, yet I think of myself as a very spiritual person.

The summer D. and I met I went out to the farm one day.  He was busy mowing, so I decided to take a walk up the big hill, behind the farm.  It was a lovely day, sunny and warm, and a soft breeze.

I sat on the hilltop for a long time just thinking and looking at the scenery.  I thought of so many things, too many to remember it all now.  But one thing I shall never forget:  absentmindedly, I plucked a small green weed at my feet.  I held it up and looked at the root-- very long, but not straight.  It was curved and bulging in different directions for it's entire length, curving here and there, and then swinging back to follow it's original path.

I realized that the root had adapted itself to grow around all the small pebbles that had blocked its path at various points.

We do that too, all our lives, just like the root of that little green weed.  We must adapt ourselves to all the various changes and obstacles in life; but we must also keep on growing, adjusting our lives and swinging back to our original path, or a facsimile of it, seemingly unencumbered and unruffled by all the detours we had to make.

I sat on the hill that day and learned "adaptation".

Could I have learned a better lesson sitting in church?

 

God's churches and temples are not the buildings man has constructed of brick and stone and mortar.  God's churches and temples are green fields, flowered meadows, lonely hilltops, rippling streams, and blue skies.

 

Memoire: An Outline for Life Experiences

I've spent most of my life writing, and although I threw away a good chunk of diaries and copies of letters I've written over the years, I've also saved a few notebooks and spiral binders.  I dug them out today, wreaking of that very musty 'old-paper' smell.  Some entries are so personal and raw they make me cringe, others make me laugh at my own naiveté and inexperience...I didn't know what all was coming my way yet, what was coming down the pike, and I tended to be very idealistic. 

The following outline was written on December 21 (the winter solstice), 1987, when I was 30 years old:

Phases of Life

 

1.  Childhood
2.  Adolescence
3.  Adulthood...single/married

4.  Child-bearing

not experienced yet:

5.  Middle-age

6.  Old-age

 

____________________

 

1.  Childhood:

 

A.  Innocent

B.  Carefree

C.  New...perceptions, images, ideas,
feelings, experiences, sensations

D.  Frightening...fantasies, worries, fears

E.  Happy

 

2.  Adolescence:

 

A.  Deceptive...feelings

B.  Rebellious...moods

C.  Confusing...emotions,
situations, expectations

D.  Unhappy

E.  Self-conscious

F.  Conflicting...morals, ideas,
motives, actions

 

3.  Adulthood

 

A.  Single...lonely, relaxed, quiet

B.  Married...fulfilling, intense

C.  Focused...intentions, principles, work,
care (house, husband, children)

D.  Complex...feelings, emotions

 

4.  Childbearing

 

A.  Awesome

B.  Frightening

C.  Wondrous

D.  Intimate...emotions,
physically, sensations

E.  Tiring

F.  Painful

G.  Fulfilling

 

Happy Mother's Day...wherever you are

Everyone who knows me knows the story, so I don't want to bore anyone with repetition...cutting to the chase, my mother wasn't in my life most of my life, or if she was it was as a beautiful shadow person, an elusive enigma. Come my 40s, and 'voila'...my mother shows up unexpectedly on my door step as a permanent fixture, or so I thought.  Long story short, the magical reunion didn't last, but petered out rather like a bad high school friendship.  Alas, she's once more that elusive, shadowy, enigmatic figure out there 'somewhere', living life as usual-- coffee in the morning, shopping rounds, sight seeing, cooking good things to eat, opinionizing 'round-the-kitchen-table'-- somewhere-- by early morning candle light with makeup done and jewelry in place.

It's okay, really.  Personalities are what they are, and we are either compatible or not; mostly it winds up being 'or not', but that's life.

I thought about her on Mother's Day, though, and I decided that it's best to respect her desire to be 'incognito', since this seems to be what she wants and is apparently what makes her comfortable and makes her life run smoothly (lord knows we wouldn't want to create any wrinkles)...however, I still thought about her on Mother's Day, and this is something she can neither take away nor control.

I would like to wish my mother a belated "Happy Mother's Day", wherever you are. 

Free Spirits who sing the same song will generally wind up in the same place at some point, and I believe this to be true for my mother and me.

Ramblings on a frickin' Rainy Afternoon

Vanity...I have to laugh; I wrote this in my diary when I was in my mid-forties:, about ten years ago:

"My mother always made it very clear to me that, whatever you look like now, you're going to look worse later.  Don't get too attached to your beauty because it's not yours to keep.  Don't go around thinking that it's some big bonus and that you can count on it."  (quote by Uma Thurman)
____________________

That old time religion...(written 6 years ago):

I feel awash in "witchiness".  In bottles of herbs, and oils, and potions, and stones, and candles, and  brooms, and cats, and incense, and tarot cards, and athames...I feel like I could straddle a broom and take off in flight.
____________________

Physical desire..."The person who discovers what the 'trigger' for this is, what drives two people out of millions together, will be a very wealthy person indeed."

(Talk about 'magic'-- I do believe this is one of the most magical things of all.  When you're with the right person, it feels all consuming and uncontrollable...thinking of my sweet Joe, of course.  I don't believe I was truly alive until he first touched me.)
____________________

Thoughts for today (this frickin' rainy day):

I am amazed at...

...the dignity of this man, my man, cloaked for so long in a different life, resurrected through his own personal strength and will.  He is an inspiration on so many levels, though I doubt that he realizes it.

...the coldness of winter, the relief of spring.

...how many sweet things I can eat in a day.

...how stupid people can be, how judgmental, how transparent.  They come and they go; they are by your side one moment and talking about you in some dark corner the next.  They profess undying friendship one day and cut you off cold the next.  They turn tables so fast it makes your head spin, and it is also funny-- I see the humor in it even if no one else does, so do my kids:  "But they didn't even like M.!", the girls say incredulously.

...the newborn kittens-- newborn anything, really.  It has its own scent, its own feel, its own sound.

...the power of true love to revitalize and rejuvenate.

...how much you can miss one person, even though you'll be reunited in a matter of hours.

...how truly conservative I am, in spite of my spiritual path and beliefs, in spite of my adamant feminism-- I find myself content to wash his clothes, serve him coffee in bed, see to his needs, hang on his every word, arrange my daily schedule around him, wait for him to come home at night, and relish the moment when he takes me in his arms and calls me 'his baby'. (*sigh*...damn Cinderella and Snow White...*smiling sweetly*)

...how much of a procrastinator I am-- and with this last thought I'm going to stop, get off my ass, and do what I should be doing around here, like...um, cleaning out the downstairs cubby, baking banana bread, and doing someone's tarot reading.

Warmest Regards to whomever is reading this--

I dare you to leave me a note so I know who you are *wicked grin*

Love After 50

When someone totally unexpected comes into your life, it shakes it all up, turning everything upside down/inside out...it changes everything.  It changes what you thought you wanted; it changes your plans for the future; it opens new doors; it quietly closes old ones; and it opens your heart and mind to life's adventures.

"Take me by the hand", I tell this man, "and I'll follow you anywhere."

The sudden realization of complete trust and unconditional love is an overwhelming wonderment, one of humanity's miracles.  It's as amazing to find yourself giving it, as well as receiving it.

Memoir: Wrinkles of the Day



Wednesday, December 29, 1993

I glory in things of the sea, although I’ve never seen the ocean-- beautiful shells and fossilized creatures; the sound of waves crashing against hard earth; the luminescence of foam on the crest of waves; and cold salty spray in the air…I am so lonely for the sea, and then I think…How can I be lonesome for something I have never seen?

Maybe it is a primal feeling-- all life having originated from the ocean. It is a desire to go back to one’s roots.

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Vanity is a heavy burden. How wonderful and liberating to be rid of it. I wished I would have shed mine years sooner. Those very young, very beautiful women-- what a heavy yoke they must carry, their vanity.

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The other day I was very tired from not being able to sleep at night, and I thought desperately and crossly-- I wish I could go to bed and stay there until tomorrow because this is going to be such an awful day.

But then something unexpected happened-- the day rolled out before me, all the wrinkles smoothing out. And it turned out to be a wonderful day. Beth was delightful, John was calm, Anne was quiet. I reveled in my children, in my writing, even in the house.

At night I thought-- what a precious thing this day was, how tragic it would have been if I had not found it, appreciated it, lived it peacefully.

I shall never have this day again.

Memoir: Thursday, January 17, 1991

He (John) is absolutely irresistible now. It’s hard, sometimes, to put him down and go do something I should be doing. He loves to be played with and smiles and coos, “talks” back to you and giggles out loud. He also growls like a little bear-- very low and sometimes loud. It’s a funny, masculine sound.

Anne runs and “hides” in her “cave” behind the rocking chair when I get ready to change her clothes now. I try to be patient. It's a great game to her and she laughs and squeals-- although she really doesn’t want her clothes changed!

John is fat and rosy and big. He has wide blue-gray eyes and smells vaguely of baby powder and milk. Anne is getting very tall and slender and plays “pretend” so sweetly, talking to imaginary people who almost seem real, wanting “lipstick” on sometimes and becoming jealous if Duane gives me a hug, squeezing herself in-between us, becoming embarrassed and excited when he dances me around the floor. She squeals and gets very loud.

Memoir: Diary-- Monday, November 18, 1991

At a stop light today:  I watched behind me-- a man in a business suit, framed in my rear-view mirror.  He was chewing gum and would pull it out from his mouth, a long white strand, then chomp-chomp on the strand until the last of it disappeared inside his mouth.  He did this over and over, until the light turned green.

It was so inconsistent-- the business suit and the gum.  I felt like a voyeur.  I was given a glimpse of the little boy inside the man inside the suit.

Facebook: Hide n' Seek

The latest FB oddity, and social networks are odd enough to begin with, is that you can request your friends to click on your profile picture and make any comments you leave on their page invisible to the rest of the world.

I had to think on this one...First, if you're going to leave comments that are included in public discussions and posts on someone else's page, why not let everyone see them?  Second, why make someone else responsible for the privacy of your comments that you are leaving on their public page?  And what if, just what if, your friends don't want to click on your public profile picture and follow through with this request?  What are you going to do then, huh?...refuse to post on their wall?  unfriend them?

And why would anyone make such a request in the first place?  Quite frankly, it makes you look sneaky.

You have to suspect that this request comes from someone who may want to leave snarky bitchy comments, and they want to wallow in their witty sarcasms with the safe and secure knowledge that their target is unaware of their actions.

Look at it this way-- if you really have something private to say to someone, you can send them a private message-- that's what this is for...hello?  Otherwise, stay the fuck off their public page.

The Innkeeper: A Coin for thy Thoughts

I'm the proverbial "Innkeeper". I'm the wench with the wild hair who takes a gold coin from dusty travelers on sweaty horses so they can spend the night on a straw matt at the back of the tavern. (At least this is one way to look at it.)

#1...I need four, at least *4*, basic pieces of information to create a reservation or check you in:  your name, your street address, your zip code, and your telephone number. (I also need your credit card, but that's another issue, another page on the computer.)  Telling me, "I've stayed here before, you should have this information", is not one of these four pieces of necessities which I need.  You are not as memorable as you seem to think you are, and arguing with me over the fact that I should remember you takes much longer than just giving me the requested information, as would diving into the bowels of the computer to retrieve this data. I've probably checked in hundreds of people since your last visit, and my brain is not wasting its limited space and functionality on automatic recall of information that is not pertinent to my life. 

#2...Don't get angry at me when your credit card is declined-- I haven't been using it.  It's not my fault that you are low on funds.  I also cannot give you a room until you either a) give me another credit card to an account that carries enough money to pay for your purchase, or b) give me cash.  I'm selling hotel rooms, if you don't pay for one, you don't get one.

#3...Male guests:  Female employees of a hotel are hired to check you into the hotel, to make your reservation, and to make sure you're comfortable and the hotel is secure.  Female employees of a hotel are not hired to be your verbal punching bag.  Although it's not emphasized publicly, in most hotels, mine included, female employees will be justified in telling you to take a hike if you become abusive and obnoxious.

I had a gentleman come in the other night, give me his name, and stand there smiling expectantly. I say, "Yes? Do you have a reservation?" He says, "No", still smiling. I say, "You need a room?" He says, "Well, L. (former employee) usually just has it ready for me." -- You Have Got To Be Kidding.  I say, with a sweet smile on my face, "Well, I'm not L."  (I'm actually thinking: fucktard.)  He seemed a little let down when we had to go through the usual process.

Four words a hotel desk clerk dreads most:  "We need a plunger."

Just a note:  For most people, stamping your feet and throwing a hissy fit to get what you wanted when you were a kid didn't work. It still doesn't.  And for that special few who managed to pull this crap off successfully then...that was then, this is now.



Divorce in the 21st Century

From personal experience (divorced more than once), I can tell you that the woman is most often labeled as the villain in this scenario, no matter what the circumstances of the break-up happen to be.  If the husband is having an affair, it's usually justified by popular speculation that the wife is neglecting him.

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People are really thrown for a loop when there is a divorce without the customary affair, cheating, histrionics, and usual drama.  It almost makes them angry, maybe because they aren't able to neatly categorize the situation in their mind.

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Couples are friends with other couples.  Once a 'Couple' is separated and becomes singular, they no longer fit the criteria of what's acceptable for friendship within the world of Pairs.  Apparently it causes some sort of disruption in the social aspect of things.  I'm not sure.  But if a friendship is maintained between a 'Couple' and a 'Non-Couple', it usually only entails one party, and this is usually the man...this has been my experience over the course of four divorces.  I'm not sure why this is so, still working on this one.  Maybe trying to emotionally compartmentalize how both non-couple people could fit into the scenario is just too difficult or confusing.  As I said, I haven't figured this one out yet.

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An odd observation:  Single women seem to be viewed as more of a threat than single men.

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Women who are in the midst of a divorce are often viewed as evil-- remember, I have plenty of experience here.  I've wondered why this is and have come to the conclusion that it's probably because women who decide to take charge of their own lives (i.e. Strong Women) are stereotypically viewed as some sort of a threat in our society.  (Egads, the Little Woman is making her own money, taking care of her own space, and making her own independent decisions...what will she be doing next?!)

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In the face of a divorce, men will gather their bank accounts and material wealth tightly about them like an old mother hen carefully tucking her chicks safely beneath her ample feathered butt.  As quaint as this may sound, it's not very sanitary, and there are a surprising number of women who won't go there...me among them.

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Once in a while, in the midst of a divorce, friends and family may be called upon for an 'Intervention'.  This is usually instigated by one member of the Former Couple, the one who doesn't want the divorce.  It's amazing how many people can be sucked into this sort of thing without having all the facts, without being aware of the private dynamics of the relationship, and without taking into account the various reasons the divorce has been instigated in the first place.  They come racing in like movie heroes on galloping white horses, coming to what they think of as The Rescue, totally oblivious to the fact that the curtain has descended, the movie is over.  The End.

Quite frankly, marriage is a private personal contract between two people and the breaking of this contract is also a private personal decision.

Life's "Aha" Moments...with frequent updates

Sometimes it's a frickin' relief not to be in love.  It frees the mind and allows you to go places (figuratively) that you wouldn't be focused enough to concentrate on if you were in the throes of a relationship and all the 'stuff' that goes along with it, good and bad.  Just saying.  I have experienced this myself and have watched various friends who are consumed with relationships, it dominates the landscape, leaving little time or energy for anything else.  Maybe not everyone is so intense about it, and it's just us super-sensitive folks who are thrown for a loop by all the different energies.