8Things On Your Bedside Table

Hmmm...at the moment...I don't really have an actual bedside table...I haven't made it that far yet...I have sort of a dresser top that sits not too far from the bed where I toss stuff and a box sitting upside down on the floor, pretending to be a bedside table...until I decide what I am putting there.

I can tell you what's on that bix though...

Wait--the stuff on the bedside table at my own house, where I rarely sleep--or the stuff on the bedside table at R's house...where I nearly always sleep??? Guess I can --and should--do both...

At my house...

A coffee cup full of paint brushes--it also has hair sticks in it...
A coffee cup full of crochet hooks...
A notebook and several pens--this has to count as one, as I cannot have one without the other.
A small stack of books, knitting books and writers books at the moment.
Leaning against the box is a bag w one of my knitting projects in it--the essence shawl, which more often than not is draped over the top of the box...
An incense burner...I have to keep the matches hidden...the incense is also elsewhere...
A container of body butter, lavender scented this one.
A tube of chapstick...I don't recall what flavor...

At R's house...

Wow--does that include his stuff? We don't have all that much there really...

Books--he's reading Jim Butcher...I have a writers book and a women's Yoga book...
A glass of water...
A pothos R brought from his office cubicle at AT&T/IBM...
A box of tissues...
Again, a container of body butter, also lavender...I tend to buy things in pairs...
His old watch that needs a battery...
The alarm clock radio/CD player...and there are a couple cds there too...'romantic guitar' is the only one that comes to mind at the moment...
condoms...sorry to seem rude...but it's true...and that really is about all we have up there...

A Day late-But Still A Wednesday Wish...

What do you wish to awaken?




Yesterday, it took me forever to actually load Jamie’s site yesterday. At first, I thought it had to do with my being on the laptop—maybe the wifi signal wasn’t strong enough or something. Despite the fact that I was sitting right by the modem unit thingy…not three feet from it. So, Jamie’s site refused to load on the laptop. I tried for two hours…and then tried the desktop. Same deal on the desktop. I tried the laptop, the desktop, and the netbook…from about 9 in the morning til…I found Jamie on facebook that evening…and after about ten tries, I was finally able to get Jamie’s website to load via facebook’s link…and I left it up all night so it would still be there in the morning…once I was able to load it, the site seemed ok…

Then, I took a look at the question though…and gasped…OMG…this woman is SO incredible! Talk about an innate ability to smack someone right between the eyes with exactly the right question at the absolute perfect time. I was so shocked and amazed that I actually looked at the screen and said, out loud, I have to think of this overnight before I can answer.

As if this hasn’t been the stuff floating around on my brain for weeks? Months?? Longer??? Anyway…

What do I wish to awaken?

Wow. Lol I am currently reading “Entre Nous” by Debra Olliver…a book about awakening your inner French girl…but as I am reading it, I have to realize that, uhm, other than the whole French ancestry thing, I do have that French girl thing already, even if it isn’t as defined as I’d like it to be…and I am only 73 pages into it right now. There are things I am planning to change, not just based upon this book, but because I’ve been heading that way for awhile anyway…but still...the book makes it more fun…
Another book arrived last night, “Simply Irresistible” by Ellen T White—about awakening your inner siren…although…w R…that is not an issue…and from what I read when I skimmed it last night, the book won’t be much help for me…because I already do … a lot … to appease that inner siren.

So, what to awaken? How about I turn the question just a smidge? I’ve awakened quite a bit of archetypes within myself in the past few years, even more so in the past year…but…awakening something from a slumber and getting them to engage fully are not exactly the same thing.

I have awakened my Inner Goddess—I have awakened my Inner Writer—I have awakened my Inner Artist—I have awakened my Inner Siren…not that she was ever that dormant, despite all the ridiculous men in my life prior to R…now I want to bring these …pieces of me…to the forefront of my existence…I want them to grow fully awake, engorged w life, blooming, blossoming, moving shaking dancing gyrating Yoga inducing lucid dreaming ball-busting yelling screaming tears of joy happy happy …everything…that kinda sums it up, huh…

When you come right down to it, other than taming the Procrastinator in me, what I wish to awaken and to more than fully embrace is this happy joyful person I am becoming…

I am leaving behind the unhappy, the disturbed, the angry, the fearful, the hurt person I have been for so very long…
The things I depended upon R for when he was only my friend are the cornerstones of the relationship between us…and the stability between us allows me to coerce and correct all the other inadequacies in my life in such a manner that I don’t have to be afraid of falling or of failing, because no matter what, that man will be right there, willing to laugh at me and tease me to no end, but willing to pick me up and help brush the dust off…that is truly my saving grace…knowing no matter how hard I fall, nor how far I fall, he will be right there, the entire time, and that his feelings for me will not change a bit.

So, despite all the other titles, I wish to awaken and embrace my own Personal Inner Goddess…that should cover everything…and then some…and still leave plenty of room for more growth and improvement.

Peace.

New Post for The New Blog....

All about Dream Wear...and yes, pictures will be forth-coming...

http://thesilkenthreadbyknittingjourneyman.blogspot.com/2010/01/dreaming-of-new-wears.html

This project began with a divorce. The children and I moved across country, to a place utterly foreign to them, away from everyone they knew and loved. It wasn’t easy on anyone. My daughter especially had a difficult time at night, when it was time to sleep.
We already had ‘Monster Spray’. We had the ‘magical’ incense to keep the air sweet and clear so happy thoughts would come flying in. We had special prayers after story time. We rang bells to invoke Angelic benevolence. We had a bedtime ritual that made sure nothing was overlooked. There was nothing under the bed, in the closet, behind the curtains, behind the door, not in the shadows. But my daughter still had trouble sleeping. At wits end trying to come up with something else to help her, other than me laying down with both children and holding them until they fell asleep every single night, I devised a decent plan.
I knit my daughter a dream hat. My son only got a knitted toy and he was satisfied with that. My daughter is more difficult to please. I took a soft wool and blended it with a wool-acrylic blend, in two hues that were close, but not exactly alike, and I wove for my daughter a cap that would hold only the happiest and purest of thoughts.
It’s been five years now. The hat is a touch small now, but it still fits. It will still stay on in the middle of the night. She still wears it every single night, except during the summer, when it is too hot. Then she merely clutches it in her hand every night.
One small hat became a miracle to a small uncertain child.
Thus was Dream Wear born.
It did not stop at a hat. Oh no. My son had his dream doll. At first, it was a snake. Then there was a cowboy. Then an octopus. Now he has a doll he cannot sleep without it at his side.
My daughter, as she grows older and matures, and is facing pre-puberty and peer pressure and the advent of a new family dynamic, has been requesting other items of late to help her not only sleep without bad dreams, but to help her fall asleep. She has also asked for many things to help her capture her good dreams and keep them with her throughout the day.

I have often made similar objects for friends, family and clients, each item made for each individual, depending upon the needs of each person. These items are not just for dreams or for sleeping. Many objects are used for a multitude of reasons.

Here are a few of the items I’ve made in the past:
Dream hats, made from a variety of materials. There is not just one single pattern. I decide on what pattern based on the person for whom the hat is being made. At least one family member spent nearly two months trying to decide what sort of hat would look best on her…and yes, this was a sleep hat as well.
Meditation shawls, blankets and throws. Again, each is made for the individual. Colors, materials and styles vary.
I have also made cloths in this various. Handkerchief sized, bath cloth sized, even coaster sized.
Table runners. Scarves. Wall hangings. Arm warmers. Hand warmers. Slippers. Belts.
I have even knitted something along the lines of a strand of prayer beads, but used the various stitches in lieu of beads.
Bags, much like my daughter’s dream bag. Small bags. Satchel-sized bags. Wallet-sized bags. Spirit bags. Something to hold that which is personal and meaningful to the person who shall be using the item. I myself have a gratitude bag that I gathered together to hold different things.
I have even made pillows, tiny ones to more bed pillow sized ones, also for numerous reasons.

This is only the beginning of what I can and do create to help others, for whatever reason. These items are not just to keep bad dreams away, or to hold onto good dreams. Each piece has a meaning and a purpose individual to the person for whom it is made. Some of these are even made as memorial gifts to commemorate different events and milestones in people’s lives.

So, tell me, what can I create for you today that will help you along your journey?

A Love Diatribe

Ever since I saw Jamie’s New Moon post, I have been wrangling various things round and round in my mind. Everything that is important to me. How I want to arrange all those things. The whole nine there. Above and beyond, my family is my main priority…the love of my life, R, plus my children. Ok, fine, and the dogs fall in that range as well…from the gimpy Old Man to the Spastic Dumbdumb…and the empathic shepherd in between…sigh…
ANYWAY! I think I have a handle—or at least the semblance of a handle—on the whole work arena thing here…knowing that R has my back no matter what I do is an amazing thing in and of itself as well…but still…I am not one to rest forever upon my laurels here…really…I may be slow at times…but I don’t give up on the important things…not unless I have no other choice…

R and I had a very long, very dramatic (because I am an idiot and have to let things go until there is no other option in cases like these) discussion this morning. He and I are solid. I don’t think the end of the world, nor a nuclear disaster nor a flying toilet seat could separate us at this point…sometimes Destiny works. He and I were destined to be together from the start, from our first meeting 9-10 years ago. Anything that happened in between to either of us was just grist for our mills, so we would be better people once he and I got together, better for one another.
As much as I dislike the drama, despite being the cause of it all today, I like when he and I have these deeply involved talks. We end up not only getting so much out in the open between us, but we wind up learning so much about one another, even as we find out more about ourselves as a couple, as we solidify our stake in one another that much more firmly…

This morning made us both think—all the time we wasted w the other people in our lives…all the effort we put into relationships that never meant half of what this relationship means to us…that is really what sucks. All the time and energy and pain—for people we never saw ourselves having a future w anyway…for people that we didn’t care about then the way we care about one another now…it’s shocking…

Looking at the marriage in my past…I am ashamed to admit that I once declared that man to be the ‘love of my life’…even knowing that one particular relationship before that was much stronger emotionally and physically…I literally sold my soul for that man, or much rather, I gave my soul away free of charge, at his behest…and spent the next 10+ years in Hell, forcing myself to believe that I loved this man more than the thing I had given away, even though that was utterly impossible…it was never the cheating that bothered me w him—I’m not that kind—especially when I literally shut down completely, physically and mentally, for several years, like I did then—it might not have been quite so long if I hadn’t worked as a telephone operator for a soul-sucking company either—but hey—water under the bridge—and yes, that company is the BIG reason why I will never work a corporate job ever again…it was all the lies the man told. He’d lay in bed w one …wh*re or another…have them call me while he was there, tell them what to say…then come home and fawn all over me, tell me how he couldn’t live without me, ply me w gifts, beg me to stay home from a job he made me keep so we could go out together as a couple to work on things—the job, I kept again at his behest—which is not quite the same thing as forcing—it’s the passive aggressive form of forcing—that with all the benefits and the salary, where would we go to find me a better job that would pay as well, or offer so many benefits, or vacation time or blah blah blah—I should have told him to bite me and worked at McDonald’s or whatever and actually gone to school—instead of letting him talk me out of it all the time—for years on end. But—that was then. This is now.

Here I am now with this most incredible man. A man who puts up w me even in my worst moods. A man who actually gets me and understands me. A man who has seen me through far worse circumstances—who has seen me at my worst—and then some. And the one who has never turned his back on me, not from the moment he met me, not for any reason. This is the man who gave me a yellow flower the Mother’s day I was pregnant w E. This is the man who not only baby-sat my daughter while I attended massage therapy school—this is the man who babysat the biological donor when I was pregnant and I went to WV to visit family…Oh, let us not speak of the biological donor…I’ve had enough of that for the week already…and it was only spoken of for all of 20 seconds via email the other day too—already the tedium of that lies heavily upon me…

I know I have said all these things about R before…but bear w me…I wrestled w my Inadequacy Daemons last night—while being wedged in between R and N—R who wanted to be close but still tried to give me my space, which was worse because I needed physical space but wanted to be inside his skin for the sake of being comforted—N who was clutchier and clingier than I have seen him in a long long LONG time…and Kendall shoving herself up against my feet until R would stretch and brush up against her or kick her or whatever, depending on where she was, and she would get off the bed for a bit…and then she’d jump up again and do it all over…I didn’t get much sleep at all last night—I slept more after N woke up this morning—and woke R up by picking on him—between 8 and 8:30a—than I did most of the night—and that was before R and I had our talk too…so…talk about *not* fun now that the tiredness has had more time to set in…I agreed to take the kids up the road to McDonald’s for lunch—just so I could get some strong coffee and use of the brisk icy sharp air as it blew by. Neither of which really helped all that much either…

R and I met in 2000. The ex husband and he worked together. T and I had moved to St Louis in Nov, 99. He told me we needed a couple to go out w to do couples things w—-I was fine w that. R and I had a weird connection the entire time. It wasn’t talked about then in anyway. I don’t really remember when it was first discussed. I don’t really remember how we started to hang out…or how we got involved in the same group…all I know was I was in a bad space, w a husband who had told me that moving to St Louis was a brand new beginning for our relationship—while his actions dictated otherwise…I left him…because, as his past proves out, he is incapable of leaving the woman he is w, no matter how unhappy he is or anything else. Every time I left him, he would find a reason to come back. Dude, most of the reason I let someone else pick the guy I slept w then was because—I didn’t know how to make decisions myself anymore and I surely didn’t want another T on my hands…why I got pregnant was partially to stop T from coming back—but it didn’t stop him. I must have left him, literally moved in and moved out, 3, 4 times before it was all over. It was so bizarre at one point R had to threaten to kick my butt if I moved back in w T one more time…

R took care of me while I was pregnant. We carpooled together—as in, he came to pick me up, drove us to the metro station, rode w me the whole way and talked w me the whole way. He would walk me to work. He would come camp out at my office once his day was done since I worked later than he did. We went to lunch darn near every day. He never hit on me, not even a little, ever. I cannot say that of any other man in my life.
He busted his a** to help me find an apartment of my own—and to get me into said apartment, during the divorce. More than once too—before E arrived—and after too…Funny things now—like he and I had the same divorce attorney—because I recommended ours to him. He took care of E while I was in massage school. E and I have lived w him, more than once. And he never asked for a thing either. This is the man who rubbed my back when I was frustrated trying to memorize bones and muscle insertions and origins and everything else for massage school…this is the man who took us back in after the whole c*ck-up w T (the other T) and I was pregnant w N…and still he didn’t ask for a thing from us…I gave birth in his house…he was the first person after the midwife and doula –well, other than E and me- that N saw in his whole life…R has always always been there for the kids in some capacity. He tried every year to remember E’s birthday—up until I, like, moved to the other side of the world—ok, fine—just the other side of the country—and that was no longer possible—but we stayed in contact…and he had to deal w T’s really bizarre then-girlfriend as well—which still kinda creeps me out all over—but that ended pretty quick—as predicted…

Again w the ANYWAY!!

R and I have been through some very weird and wonderful stuff together. A sweat lodge at a pagan camping event…but the camping part was fun too—and that’s where R picked up his delicious nickname (BA—just ask—I won’t post it here though). We’ve been through all sorts of training for…alternative things…we went through UFT training…which I dragged him to the first time and didn’t need much begging to get him to after that…he was my best test subject while I was in massage school…I baby-sat his then-girlfriend – this is bag of hammers – the one who ‘pushed’ my dragon oracle cards so hard they could literally never be used again…not after years of cleansing, clearing and being packed away in salt and everything else…now I use R’s dragon deck…he bought his deck after playing w mine because he liked the feel…

R is the man I have trusted implicitly from the get go…more than I ever was able to trust the ex-hub throughout all our time together…this is the man whose friendship means the world to me, whose word and opinion mean everything to me, whose friendship I knew would always be there no matter what…this was my one real True Friend…the one to whom I could and did—and still do-- confess everything, at any given time. This is the man who would sit and down a bottle (or more) of tequila w me…and then go to bed after making sure I was safe for the night…and never lift a finger to touch me otherwise…this is the man the entire world swore up and down I was sleeping w –before either of our divorces…and all through the intervening years since (for the record—everyone was wrong about that—we never did, not until we started seeing each other this past year)…this is the man I have from the beginning considered my twin, my brother…this is the one man I would never hit on for real because our friendship was far more important to me than anything else…and I would never consider jeopardizing that … in fact, when R and I started sleeping together, and technically that deal still stands right now, if ever things get bad and the relationship dissolves—we will always remain friends—we will just have more stuff to pick on each other about…but we won’t let anything interrupt the friendship.

This morning, my world rocked, and not in a good way either. It has before…when I look at the ex-hub and think, this is the man I thought I loved with all my heart, before I gave my soul away. That was the man I thought of as my sun and my moon. I loved him so much I gave up the only thing that meant anything to me and I destroyed myself for him. I did love him that much, didn’t I? I nearly died, more than once…from sorrow, from pain, from whatever I could swallow…because of him…and I thought that was love. It was not love. I was a complete idiot. Even before the soul selling incident. I was a complete idiot.

What I felt for the ex-hub is nowhere near the realm of what I feel for R. I have always loved R—but as a brother, as a friend. Once he came to me, and we allowed those barriers to drop away, there was a well-spring waiting there, w his name written all over it. This is the kind of emotion that could cause one to wait 100 years, pining for your love to return, strong in your faith that he would return. This is the intense emotion that fells empires, and lasts throughout the ages. This is the sort of love that makes Isis and Osiris look like amateurs in the spectrum of Love (please, no offense meant there, Lady and Sire, honest).
This is the kind of love where my heart may explode at any time just by looking at the man, knowing he isn’t going anywhere, no matter how nuts I am. We are both so injured, so wary…and we’ve watched each other grow that way over the years, so we both understand the other and how the other reached that position…but we are completely willing to work with one another and work through any thing that may come up between us …no matter how nuts either of us is…there is a real sense of security and happiness—and real genuine happiness—not the glossed over I’m trying to be happy fake stuff he and I are so used to w former partners—in this relationship.

He says the same thing I do. He has never before been able to see himself w any of the exs long-term, as in, into the twilight years of life, growing old together, happy throughout the time together, for the most part. He has always seen that possibility w me. Ditto on the exs on my side…I always knew the ex-hub would die and I would be free to finally start living my own life—scary how very like my mother that sounds…but it’s true—for me and for her. I always knew N’s dad and I would only be together a few years for the sake of the kids—although things would have been so much better if he had ever been able to open his mouth or be honest—but again—water under the bridge…oh, E’s biological donor? During a session w the …whatever you call her…the Guides put it best—and I paraphrase—he doesn’t have a year…and I was always ok w that…
I am the only woman R has ever been w that he can actually see himself having children w – he’s never seen that before w anyone he’s dated. It’s kinda obvious I’m not so…committed to the biological donors of my children…not the past ones anyway…R stands as the exception to all my rules…he’s earned that in my book, a billion times over…for all the little things he does, much less the big ones…
In my life, I have been pregnant four times. Only one miscarriage. I gave every man the same choices each time…only one man stood beside me –and also told me to stop baiting him or else…and he was there for me through three of those pregnancies—only one of which was his, the only one that ended in miscarriage. He is also the man who holds me now when I do nothing but bawl my eyes out over that miscarriage too. Over the miscarriage and over the first pregnancy that happened years before I even met him. R will not leave me. No matter what happens. There really is nothing that can happen, that either of us is willing to do to cause it, that will ever destroy what we have. A few people have said we are obviously the til death do we part types…this is true—and I don’t really believe death has the power to separate us either…we’ve been together for so many lifetimes, in one capacity or the other, as it is anyway…
Neither of us has to worry about a rebound relationship scenario…neither of us operate that way anyway, E’s biological donor notwithstanding…We don’t have to worry about either of us cheating, because neither of us is like that. Yes, I understand I have said it many a time—I don’t care if my partner cheats—I care if he lies—but that doesn’t mean I’d cheat—I never have—then again, if I were seeing someone I always told him when I was seeing someone else too—that’s just me…I was legally separated before I did anything before that divorce was final—even though I knew the ex-hub, he’d slept w the entire female population of Ft Smith and then some…There are no lies between us, R and me—and worse—neither of us could lie to the other anyway—we’ve been together too bloody long as friends—we know each other too well…there is nothing we cannot share…nothing we cannot overcome…nothing we cannot get through together…we know that…we’ve discussed it…and it is all good.

I am blessed. R and I are blessed. As I told R this morning, ever since we met, he has been the best thing that has ever happened to me … and I meant it too…I mean it every day…every time I look at him…every time we kiss or hold hands or walk down the street together…and at least now he can honestly say the same thing about me…maybe not from the very start of the relationship—but at least now…I am the best thing that has ever happened to him.

I make him happy. He makes me happy. Neither of us has ever actually had that before—that just complete sense of happiness, and from such small every day things too. Sitting together. Hanging out in the kitchen. Snuggling side by side, nestled together in bed, reading before we turn the lights out.

Not to mention, my kids love him. He loves them—even if he isn’t always sure what to do w or about them—for the record, neither am I, but still…

I love the man. Hands down. Period. It is a feeling more than reciprocated. Without expectation of anything but our dedication to that love too. No rules. No agendas. Nothing like that. Just, loving one another, the best way we know how…

The New Moon investigations, as I shall now name them, only lead me back into how much I love the man, how lucky I am to have him, how very blessed I am…and how good things are now…as they grow to be even bigger, better and more vibrant between us w every day that passes…I can ask for nothing more. Lest my scarred and battered heart explode from the joy…

And, of course, today, we bought a vehicle too. Nope. Not ‘my’ vehicle. A 2006 Nissan Pathfinder. What that means is next week—we’re going to get the stuff for the kids’ rooms—and then maybe even a new kitchen table—so I can keep this table I am currently sitting at for my work –and my paperwork and all sorts of other stuff strewn across--and have the kitchen table—for eating on…
Too bad I can’t drive a stick—or else I’d have the Saturn while R is in CO in February—he’s taking the pathfinder…and w that, it’s time to rustle up the small people and bundle them up for the walk home to R’s for the night…until next time…

Peace…

Updating For Friday...

Well, we spent our first night all night in the new house. Ken is far too upset. I changed bed frames w the move—so my bed is roughly a foot higher now. Last weekend N was having a field day w that fact—but it didn’t really register to me that the bed was higher. I thought it was more of him just playing and being happy in the new house, w different circumstances than before. It didn’t dawn on me until this morning when Dumbdumb (yes, it is her nickname—yes, it totally applies….) came to jump into bed—which she does every morning—if she hasn’t been plastered to someone’s back all night—and all she did was whimper and whine and stand up at the edge of the bed to get my attention…
When E woke up and crawled into bed w me—also a morning ritual—she hoisted the dog up onto the bed. Now, the dog does outweigh the girl—by more than ten pounds. The funny thing was after E ran to find breakfast, the dog was too scared to jump down off the bed. In the dog’s defense, she does have something wrong w her hip—seems I always pick the dog w the hip issue…but mostly it’s because Ken is Ken-and she’s a big ol’ coward…and she knows if she whines, E will come save her. She should have also been aware that I’d shove her off the bed for whining—which is what I did. We’re talking a 60+ pound dog—who is almost two years old. She was not hurt—she didn’t really notice how she ended up on the floor—all she knew was now she could go find out what E was doing…

Seems it was too cold for the crows—or my ravens—to come let me know everything was good today. I did have a freakin’ flock of grackle camping out in the backyard—until Ken noticed them…forty to fifty birds…Ken is very fastidious about keeping her yard bird and squirrel free…Ken ran outside, barking and chasing—trying to get the birds to play w her, believe it or not—sparrows play. Grackles fly off and ignore her. Ken came back in. The birds came back.
I had thrown out the dog food that had been in Ken’s dish—for well over two weeks. She doesn’t eat here—why should she? R has the good stuff—for Shadow and his issues—but that’s what everyone eats. So her pedigree just isn’t good enough for her. I actually thought last night it was stale and icky, so I tossed it out for the birds and the squirrels. She hasn’t touched a thing yet. The torture of the not good dog food must begin.
Although..I just let Ken out back and she immediately hit the tree chasing a squirrel…the squirrel circled the tree about 4 times and the dog kept up the pace w her—and then while Ken is on one side barking up the tree, the squirrel streaks down the tree and across the yard, stopping long enough to make sure Ken was following…and then slipped under the fence and sort of chuckled as it sauntered to the tree in the front, while Ken was kept captive by the fence…lol…

Guess we needed the night at our house to get my Muses moving…I have been trying to find that something that I can do, on top of my counseling services. I’ve been trying to put my finger on that ‘something’ for awhile now. I always circle the same range—I always come back to the same arena—and I am always startled and unsettled by what I find—even though I know it is what I want and I know it is where my heart wants to go. So, since I pretty much built the road block up in my mind, my brain has been wrestling and twisting and heaving…and then, this morning, after I had gotten up—R called me on his way to work this morning…so it was after talking to him…an idea began to burst up and burst out for me…it did lead me to do some updating on that other blog/website I have had inactive for so long…. http://thesilkenthreadbyknittingjourneyman.blogspot.com/

I don’t have a great deal right this very moment…but…I have some of the process moving and percolating …which, for me, is more than half the battle…I have some aspects of that site ready…just need to fill in the voids there…and do more research on the business side of things…I have a client of mine helping me there. Some days, bartering and trading work is not such a bad thing at all.

There are some other aspects of my current business that I am looking to update and revamp as well. This makes me happy. I’ve been spinning a few wheels lately due to certain communities in this area…but…I think I am over-coming my issues about worrying about …people who are too needy…

So, at least I am feeling productive and feeling as if I am finally moving forward after this period of stasis…thank goodness…more to come….

Peace…

8Things: Highly Handy Websites

Highly Handy Websites

Websites... Not blogs... Wow. That one may be tough for me....

First on my list is sort of silly, but very apropros for me:

dictionary.com

A thesaurus for me is mandatory....


2.
Ravelry....well...because I love it and there is so much to see and so much to do...so much to covet...so many things over which to drool...


3.
SoulFoodCafe

The name says it all...daily food for the soul, no matter what sort of artist you may be...

4.
sounds dumb, but amazon.com, simply because I can look up so many different media and find out many things all at once ....

5.
Facebook...not that I am on it all that often myself, but it's good to be able to find friends and find like-minded people, and just to see what is going on w others so quickly...

6.
yahoo Canada news
The articles are better and more informative than the garbage I see on the US site...even the articles about the US.

7.
BBC News --for the same reason I read the yahoo Canada news....

8.
Honestly, I didn't think I'd be able to come up with eight actual websites ...blogs, sure...but websites?
Here's the last one:
craftster
because there is more to life than knitting...but crafting never dies....

Wednesday Wishcasting -- That Means Today!

What do you wish for your family?


Wow. What a question with which to start off the day here.

Strange, too, how it is one of those questions I ponder so frequently, darn near daily some days.

So, are we talking short term or long term? And, truly, when we get down to it and examine the brass tacks—are they really so different?

What do I wish for my family?

I wish we as a family grow strong and close…and that we stay that way…no matter what comes at us…no matter who comes into the family, by whatever means, birth , marriage, dating, adoption, whatever.

I wish to establish such a strong family bond and firm foundation that when R or I pass the bonds remain as tight as ever between siblings and their families.

When my grandmother died, all semblance of unity evaporated. Sunday dinners stopped. Holiday get-togethers stopped. Admitting that that one dude over there really is your brother, whether you like him or not, stopped. No one knows anything about the cousins—or their families—or if they have families—or anything…

I want stronger ties than that. I want us all to genuinely love one another, even if we can’t always stand one another.

I wish that one or more of the kids will enter the family business—which at this point is completely doable. Real estate investment is the first one. The Farm is going to be the second one. At least now, thanks to the house we didn’t buy, I do know that my dream of the Rescue Ranch is still very applicable, even if I have to scale it down from my original vision…at least for now. That does not negate the possibility of buying that larger piece of land elsewhere later on…

I wish that when someone dies and people go through the pictures, someone knows who that person in the picture is…I wish that the sense of history and kinship is always there, throughout the generations.

Now, there are many other directions I could be taking this today…but for right now…this is more than enough. Everything else I am wishing for and about my family is already in the process of coming true…so pushing the agenda won’t do anyone any good.

Peace.

Tuesday's Update

Well, today started out as a slow day, but turned out to be a pretty good day. We stayed longer at R’s than usual because I was doing some cleaning here—cleaning the oven and the kitchen and things of that nature. I wasn’t really comfortable leaving the oven on in cleaning mode until I was sure everything was going to be ok. It still didn’t make me feel all that better to hear the sirens of fire trucks screaming by as we were walking to our house either.
I think I have the majority of my email addresses switched over between computers now. Maybe now I can do better keeping up w emailing friends and family now. Not to mention, I think life is getting much easier, more back on track, these days, so I am better able to keep up w conversations and everything now. Hopefully, anyway.
Today, I have to give the ex some credit. I have been grousing because of the lack of N’s clothes—how his underwear suddenly took a huge dive (as in more went to T’s house than came to ours, that sort of thing) and here, as I cleaned out N’s room—and his closet—where I found the suitcase I had packed up for N when we were going back and forth between houses—before we moved into our new house—when I loaded N’s suitcase w a great deal of undies and other clothes for him to keep at R’s house, just in case. Basically, I didn’t really need to buy the boy new undies the other week—we haven’t really lost that much between T’s and my house—or in this case between T’s, and R’s and my house—since we go back and forth here every day. Come N, or rain, or shine…only thing that stops us is too cold for small people—and then I will back out of walking—but that doesn’t negate us going by car.
So, I found the suitcase—and got that emptied. Went through N’s clothes, pulled all the too small clothes out, hung up all the new stuff we’d gotten him recently…took the old bed frame downstairs…re-arranged his dressers…and took out all the blankets and pillows that were excess—got rid of the pillow pit and only left the pillows and blankets for the coming beds.
I cleaned up his room, but it looks too empty now—I really have to get that bed and put his room together. I also decided that N needs his own desk too, maybe a little bookshelf or something for his prized possessions.
E’s room is looking much better these days. She still has gobs of stuff all over in there—but at least she has done her level best to put things away neatly. She does get credit for her effort there. She has three boxes still sitting in the basement, full of her things…and she only just now got things put away decently in her room—wait…no…she has four boxes downstairs—and I don’t mean small ones. I am waiting to see how her bed fits into her room before deciding how to add more shelves or whatever for her. If we are going to be adding anything in her room—or whether whatever content is in those boxes stays downstairs or what.
I know eventually I am going to have to find some sort of storage system for the basement, for the toys. I am not going to worry about that for right now. Now, once E reaches the point where she is going through her boxes—then –then I’ll figure something out. Although, if R is going to make the stairs for N’s bed, I may ask him for help w something to store the kids toys in…we’ll have to see what comes up then.
Last Friday was the New Moon. Check out Jamie’s entry about the new moon here: http://jamieridlerstudios.ca/january-new-moon
It’s all about setting your intention for the coming Full Moon—a wonderful moon for me—the Full Wolf Moon. Friday of course was when N came to stay w us—which means utter confusion and chaos—well, not complete or utter chaos—but he sure does require a great deal of energy in order to keep up w him. And watching him and R butt heads—it’s all I can do not to throw up my hands, call it quits and go to bed to hide under the covers at times. I don’t—because sometimes my men having a go at one another is the funniest thing to watch. I often worry about what’s going to happen when N is older—but I am hoping they will be on much better terms together long before then. Both actually are doing their best, so there is hope.
I am in the process of trying to re-educate my own thought process, speaking of the coming Full Moon—while watching both friends and clients deciding to make long-lasting changes in their lives as well. I am also in the process of re-defining things in my life…not just for work…not just in the home…but there are other things I want to work on…I keep coming back to the whole, my job is terrific, but it is not really something I can do w small babes in arms…and that is something that is coming far sooner than I realize and expect—and to start moving things in the correct direction now makes more sense than waiting.
I waited when I had E. I didn’t really have any clear plans when I had E though. I just did what I did and I prayed, a lot. It took far too long to actually find that groove where I could do the things I wanted to do where the kids and where work was concerned. I want to have a definite heads up for the coming days. It’s a shift I have been wanting for some time—I just have to manage it. I just have to decide exactly what sort of shift I am working towards, more than anything else.
R told me last year we would have our own booth at Pagan Picnic this year. If I set aside some time, I would be able to have enough to justify a booth. To sell hand-made items. To give readings and offer my other services (remember, I am an Ordained Minister). There are both pluses and minuses to having a booth strictly for readings and counseling—and hand-fastings. Pagan Picnic is rather a free-for-all at times, and not strictly Pagan-Oriented. For every one serious person there, there are twenty ding dongs wandering loose from their regular loony bin. Any reason to put on a show is their philosophy apparently. I prefer to avoid the loonies.
As much as I am aware that clients are clients, and income is income, there are other factors here that keep making me more leery of re-entering that field. It is not my past associations or past associates that are giving me pause. I know, beyond any doubt, the past has no current bearing any more. Nor will it at any point forward either. There is nothing any of them can do at this point. There is a level of neediness w some people that I am not willing to accept nor deal w these days. Not that I do not have clients and friends who are needy in their own way; but my clients and I already have a rapport. I have no real desire to exert the kind of energy necessary to build and sustain the ties that some of these people would require in order to be of real help to them. The joy of my job is being able to pick and choose the people with whom I deal on a regular basis. I almost never take unsolicited clients these days. In fact, I haven’t had an unsolicited client since at least November, by my own choice.
There is a ready market available here in this area. I am examining various ways to enter into that market, while not being lumped in w the others who are tapping the same markets—mostly because I am not doing what they do (per se)—because I want to carve my own niche—which is what I am doing and what I have been doing all along, in my slow wandering way—but also because I am looking to build something that will last for years…something that will be there while I am pregnant, while I have young kids, after my kids are older, when I adopt kids…even if E is right and I end up taking care of her kids too…on top of all the other things that I plan to put into motion…like the bee keeping…like the chickens…like the yarn bearing beasties…all of that.
It’s a movement in progress—I am still working on many different things…
We are getting closer to being a real two-household family. I made dinner at our (my) house this weekend. Spaghetti w peanut sauce, which is R’s favorite dish at Thai Kitchen, the one restaurant up the road. I found a recipe for one version online that gave me a decent enough stepping off point. There is no way I can tell you what I put in it, other than crunchy peanut butter (all natural) and coconut milk, some soy sauce, and a bunch of spices and herbs. I kept adding stuff, trying to get a certain flavor and I kept trying and adding and trying to figure out what I was missing—until it dawned on me what I needed to do was step back, simmer the darn sauce and let everything seep in and meld together properly. R agrees that it is terrific. But the Thai Kitchen version is light—my version—is extremely filling, very quickly. Example? If you normally eat one cup of spaghetti, eat this spaghetti and all you’ll be able to eat is a fourth or maybe even a half of cup of this…but talk about tasty. Not hot, but there is some warmth to it. I’m pretty proud of myself for a first try.
I don’t have any Thai cookbooks in my collection. I have Chinese cookbooks. I have Indian cookbooks. I have a ton of cookbooks, hands down. I have many more cookbooks than I realized I have—which still boggles my fevered little brain. But none are what I want in this instance. So, I ordered a few recommended Thai cookbooks online. We’ll see how things turn out once I have them in hand. I am rather excited about their arrival.
I am very intense when I study a new subject. Thai cooking is now a new project of mine. Mwaahahaha…
We went to Global Foods this past Sunday. I bought a fillet of yellow fin tuna so R can make some seared tuna for us. We had some at Outback steakhouse the other day and it was just incredible—ok, so Outback didn’t use yellow fin, but still…because of R, I am developing an interesting taste for raw fish.
Global Foods. We go every couple months or so. I always allow myself to splurge while there. I was finally able to replace my jar of lemon curd that broke during the move. That was the one thing that had to wait to be replaced…you just can’t find lemon curd on the local grocery store shelf. Not to mention, I’ve been needing incense too. I wasn’t out, but was running low, what w burning incense at two houses at the moment.
One reason we went to Global Foods in the first place was to find fresh mint—so I could make R an authentic mint sauce—so, we find the mint, but R also finds a bottle of the right mint sauce. This is mint sauce, not mint jelly. It is a liquid, with the mint leaves floating freely in the liquid. I bought him his bottle of mint sauce, and bought him his mint leaves too. At least I froze half the mint—and am planning to dry the other half. Speaking of which…I bought more fresh herbs than just mint—I have a bottle sitting there waiting. I toss the herbs in the jar, add the olive oil, and let it all seep…and I will have a wonderful herbally-infused oil—I love it. I’ll have to remember that tomorrow when we get home. Cool—thanks.
R told his dad about the mint sauce—now we have to take his dad to Global Foods next time he comes to town. That’s going to be fun.
I have started a drawing, based on a dream I had the other night. As I continue to draw, since right now I am working on walking stones (stones you walk on, not stones that walk)…and I still have a craggy cave wall to draw too…the dream keeps trying to speak to me…I awoke one morning w only the image in my mind’s eye. I did a real quick basic sketch to capture the main imagery—now I am trying to work on a larger, more detailed picture. Once I am done drawing, I think I might even paint the thing.
I am getting more urges to paint of late—and after all the brushes I have in my possession, all I want to do is dip my finger in paint and spread the paint over the canvas in soft fluid motions. It’s all R’s fault. Watching him. He inspires me. Every darned day. I do know that time is coming. And very soon as well. I’m just going to keep letting things brew and congeal in my mind, before my heart overwhelms and my hands put it on paper…of some form or the other.
After I am done working for the night tonight, I am casting on the top part of N’s Captain America sweater. I’ve been wanting to work on it.
Today, I brought home the yarn to knit up a laptop sleeve for the new laptop here. I have a bag to carry the thing around w me…but I want to knit up a sleeve in order to protect it. The neoprene sleeve is decent enough for the netbook—but I want a knitted sleeve for the laptop. I would have started today at the house, but I need direct measurements. Guess I should start doing that, huh?
So, there’s the update for today. Tomorrow we’re going vehicle shopping again. I believe R is ordering the mattress tonight or tomorrow—probably tomorrow. We’ll have to see what goes on then.
Until next time…ciao…

Wrote This Thursday, January 14

took me this long to remember it was here and in need of spell-checking...

Last night, after we went to look at vehicles--we test drove and walked away from a good deal on a truck, knowing we could come back later and get a better deal. So, we went out to eat and then--we went—bowling.
All this time, we’ve needed to get my bowling ball drilled. Last night, we did it. Not only did we get the ball drilled, we got to watch the guy drill the ball. I think R was a bit disappointed no one had to watch me bowl before drilling the way they did w him. Plus, it took the guy a few minutes to measure my hand—and a few minutes to drill the ball—and then—we were done…it took much longer for R to get his new ball back after he bought it and everything. Then again, he is a much better bowler than I am.
I don’t have a fancy ball—although I got a much better deal ordering it online than I thought I did, comparing my cost to the prices the bowling alley has. I got a very basic beginner’s ball, which, hello, is perfect for me, since that is what I am.
But my shoes? My shoes are very cool and they are great when worn, so at least Ii can look like I am a better bowler than I am, based solely on my shoes. lol
We did have to make an agreement w E though—when she is 16 yo, once her hands/body have stopped growing, we will buy her her own ball and get it drilled specifically for her.
Even though she has dibs on my current ball, if and when I ever decided to buy a better/different ball. And not give this one to tigers to play with or anything. Seriously.
Despite rude people on one side, we really did have a lot of fun bowling. Time for me to actually start studying though, if I am going to improve. I have to get all the “training” the ex-hub stuffed in my brain out of there—funny, since Mr. Bowling Is My Life only took us once, when my sister was in town—but bought me shoes and gave me the family heirloom ball and everything (I donated it all to the local veteran’s thrift store, along w whatever other bowling ‘stuff’ I ended up w…eons ago).
I am just not consistent. As bad as it sounds, I want a bowling alley in my house one day. If I could just practice without people around, I’d get the hang of it much more quickly. Sort of like driving a stick shift. If I could take R’s car and have a road where there is no traffic and there’s no one else around, I can futz w the silly thing until I have it down pat. That is how my mother learned to drive a stick—w an old VW bug (although it wasn’t so old then, to be sure) and a dirt road. An orange VW bug too. I heard the stories—I never saw it myself—although I apparently rode in the car when I was young—I don’t remember it—just the stories about it…

Bowling was fun.

Today, we didn’t make it to our house til late. I blame CSI. It doesn’t matter that one channel (don’t know which one off-hand) runs CSI for hours at a time and then repeats the episodes over. It doesn’t matter that the same episode that I had to sit and watch til this afternoon was about to come on when we returned early to R’s house (so I could make dinner). When that episode came on in the morning—I had to watch the entire thing, so I would know how it turned out. So, this time, I cannot blame E. It really was all me.

I bought a leather coat last night, before bowling. R and I were looking for something else, which I do think he managed to pick up too. Chains for a truck we do not yet own. And an HDMI cable for his new tv. I bought a full-length camel-toned, faux fur lined ankle length jacket. A jacket I had years ago, but …lost. A jacket I have wanted ever since. I walked into the store and it was hanging right there in front of me—and I snatched it up. $35 for a Wilson’s leather coat, suede and faux—sheep skin or whatever…in perfect condition. It fits as if made for me. Good thing it was there—I hadn’t taken a coat w me when we went vehicle shopping and I was freezing…
I made the mistake of wearing it to walk to my house this afternoon—since I had to run some fabric scent through the interior because it smelled –not like me—not bad—but not like me either. So, now it smells more—like lavender roses, I believe is the linen spray I grabbed. Why was it a mistake to wear? Well, we walk the half mile to our house. It’s 50+ degrees here. The snow is melting. I’ve seen muck-raker horses tromp and stomp through mud and water w more grace and less splash than my kid. I had thought, before leaving R’s house, that if I said something to her about stomping –it really is just how she walks—even when she tries to be careful—that the splashing would be kept to a minimum. Nope. Not really. I also planned to not take dogs with us today, but the look on Princess’s face when she knew we were getting ready killed that—and in order to keep up w the dogs, E and I had to pretty much walk side by side…luckily, only the inside of the coat got splashed—in either direction—going there or coming home. Ken looked as if she slept in a mud puddle while we were at the house—and knowing her—she probably did.

I am happy w the way the house is coming along, even though we didn’t stay there but for a couple hours today. I am finally reaching the end of the road for the major things, and making headway with the small things. I need to get some dvd shelves—whether for upstairs or down at this point I don’t care. I took pictures yesterday for friends—not that I found the cable yet to download anything but hey—I’m trying—and today—I re-arranged the living room—we started to take the tree down—which basically means all the decorations are off. The rest has to wait til tomorrow. R had to go put in his time volunteering to help disabled/blind skiers ski tonight. I had to make sure I was home in enough time to make dinner and have it ready in enough time before he had to leave. E and I were supposed to go w him, but … I had a client call and so, we go next week instead. E wants to learn to ski. Whatever floats her little boat. I was planning on taking the netbook and N’s sweater w me, so I could either write or knit—or do a little of both here and there.

I have access to nearly all my knitting needles and crochet hooks now. I definitely have access to all my yarn—except the yarn I used to pack the dvds. Yes, yarn and fabric make great packing materials. I have access to all my books—which absolutely fascinates me. Most of my cds are sadly still in a box—which I saw today—it’s lumped in –and under—all the dvds.
I put up the first picture on a wall today. The one Sarah drew that R bought on etsy for me. The Heart Of darkness, I believe. Now I feel more at home. The picture is hanging in the living room. The living room has been redone so it is more family oriented. The only other picture I have had up since we started moving stuff into that house? The Samurai Geisha Fairy also by Sarah. And my photo of Guruji Ananda, of course.

I was walking through my house today, thinking, we have to actually start living here soon. I love R, with all my heart. And I know that we will probably not sleep apart so long as we are in the same city…for the rest of our lives. But today, as I was gathering the ingredients for dinner and stuffing them in a bag in order to bring them to his house, I kept thinking, I have to get things more settled here so I can take care of the things I need to take care of, without having to run back and forth all the time. R has plenty of room both in dressers and in closets for whatever he is comfortable bringing over. And as sly as I am, I have no compunctions about buying clothes for him and keeping them at my house, just in case—or sneaking them into the closet at his house either. And he knows this! But, after December, I am strictly forbidden to buy him anything else—without specific permission—until after Valentine’s Day…it would be easier to have dinner ready at my house. R has a ton of spices—but I have more—and more exotic ones. Plus, I found a recipe for his spaghetti w peanut sauce—and I cannot make it at his house—I need the herbs and spices I have. I tend to shop at Global Foods a great deal—and I have a ton of Middle Eastern herbs and spices—because that is what I like. I love Thai food—and if I can make it myself, even better.
Not to mention, I have a brand new bread machine—that so blows away the old one the ex bought me…and I haven’t even used it yet…strange how my kitchen was the second room made ready. The first was the living room, so the kids would have something to do while I worked…that really does say a great deal about me, indeed.

I really do have to get w R and see when we are either going to buy a vehicle (we were so close last night) or when we are going to rent a vehicle. It will have to be during the week. I love my son, but boy can he be more than helpful. It takes us days to recover sometimes. I think R had enough of furniture shopping w N last Saturday. Although the car salesman we talked to last night definitely made the whole ikea/goconcierge thing crystal clear in my mind. Nope—not doing the ikea trip—unless R and I drive to Chicago to pick up a vehicle and then go to ikea while we are there. Instead, we are going back to the places we went last weekend—and according to this week’s ad, my kitchen table and chairs is there too—and on sale—so—but we are not doing it this weekend. I love my son. But I can’t handle buying furniture and chasing him up a set of bunk bed stairs too.

Re-Joining 8 Things, Already In Progress

I am absolutely awed by the artists that Magpie Girl presents on her blog. I looked around myself, but found I did not have to go very far at all to be able to see and to touch my own inspiring artists.


1.
First and foremost is my lovely 8yo daughter, crazy little thing that she is. She has the strangest ways of looking at things some days. It is always an eye-opener. I would never have considered a few chains of crochet looped together or a couple weirdly smooshed pipe cleaners as “dolls”—but she showed me otherwise with her own creations.
As a writer? Same thing – who knew a penguin and a bear could be such good friends? (book forthcoming—whenever she gets around to finishing the pictures—and after we are finally able to get across to her the purpose of editing and what that means.


2.
My own mother. Her sense of color—or depending to whom you speak—her lack thereof—have always allowed me to envision colors together that, uhm, you know, normal human beings would cringe at most horrified to see them together.
Plus, she knits-she crochets-she sews-Dad says she used to make candles and God’s eyes and all manner of things when I was a kid—she sold dream catchers and jewelery for years and years to support the family. She is a magician, until the pain in her hands becomes too intense.


3.
My friend, Kerry the Glass Fairy.
Her work truly speaks for itself:
http://kerryellen.wordpress.com/
Not to mention, her writing:
http://kvwordsmith.wordpress.com/


4.
My friend, Sarah, who not only drew out my Muse for me, but who has constantly and tirelessly encouraged me and urged me on.
http://rowenleaf.blogspot.com/


5.
Sarah’s friend, Ces, to whom I have never spoken, but I often peruse her blog and just stare, and drool, and dream, and whimper in awe—
http://cesandherdishes.blogspot.com/


6.
My friend, Hybrid J, who has inspired and nurtured my addiction to Eric Maisel’s books ….and zentangles as well…among other things...
http://hybridj.blogspot.com/


7.
Leah of Creative Every Day
http://creativeeveryday.com/
and not just for her creative every day ideas, but for her gorgeous artwork, for her brilliant mind, her inspiring writing…


8.
Jamie Ridler
http://jamieridlerstudios.ca/
She, the most incredible Wish Master and Dream Tender….

Wednesday Is For Wishes

How do you wish to shine?



Wow. I really had to stop and think about this one. I have been so focused lately on so many things. And there are quite a few areas I want to shine on in—and once starting to ponder that range, my mind immediately begins to jump to in order to set the process of shining into motion…

I want to shine. I wish to shine. I am really in the process of shining.

It is strange to think I am this close to forty and just now really starting to live my life, but it is true.

I shine: as a woman, as a mother, as a friend, as a lover, as a teacher, as a counselor, as a confident, as a writer, as an artist, as the dirt worshipping tree hugger Earth Mother freak that I am—and I love it.

I wish to continue to shine in all these areas—as well as any other areas that present themselves to me. I wish to shine and to shine brighter, every single day.

Thank you, Jamie, and all the other wish casters and well wishers, for helping my wishes come true.

Tuesday Nonsense

Ok, so this is an update—and it will probably be me babbling nuttily—but there you go.
First, my “eye” is coming back. After the break in, after seeing so much of my personal art work ruined (mostly covered w dirt and mud from shoes and the knocked over plant—I don’t think I threw anything away—although I don’t know what I plan to do w anything), I lost my desire to really DO anything, either drawing or painting. I noticed the desire to look at things in an artistic manner, using my ‘artist’s eye’, coming back more and more of late. It started last week, watching R as he got dressed one morning. Now, I wasn’t wearing my glasses—and my eyesight sans glasses is roughly 20 over 220. So, to say I could ‘see’ anything doesn’t really mean a great deal. But I see shapes. The blurry lines of my love’s shoulders and back got my hand twitching w the desire to dip a finger or two into paint and trace paint onto paper, to capture those sloping sculpted lines.
Recently, I’ve gotten similar twinges over trees, snow fall, my son sleeping…different things. Today I was upset w myself for not remembering to grab my camera as I left the house this morning to take E on a shopping run. There was this magnificent tree, stripped of leaves, thick white trunk, thin beige twigs for branches, literally, and it was all canted over towards one side, unlike every other tree in the yard, and on the street. It was so beautiful. Now, I know we can go tomorrow and get a picture of it—and we are going car shopping tomorrow too—so it really isn’t a loss, per se. But it was a huge eye-opener into the fact that I really am much more ready to dive back into things than I have been.
The weather is beginning to warm back up somewhat of late. One reason I stopped working on N’s sweater was because the weather was so cold—and I am using metal needles to make it. Between the cold weather—and my walking back and forth between houses—and the metal needles—I just couldn’t manage it. My hands were all too sensitive—my entire body gets ultra-sensitive w all the cold—handling metal needles—and not my knitpicks ones—just the ones we bought at Michael’s when all my needles were packed up (I think Boye, maybe Bates). I have started to dream in yarn again. I have found myself knitting that sweater and finishing it in my dreams—and watching N try it on and run around in it, like a hyper chicken on cracked wheat (joke)—for well over a week now.
Sleeping w R, I have had a variety of strange dreams of late. More on this later. At some point.
I have also heard the whispers of a certain Cheerleader doll, waiting to be crocheted and turned over to her rightful owner. I hear more from the cheerleader when I am awake though.
The house, my house, is roughly 95% unpacked and put away. I think R and I are buying a truck or SUV, and like, soon too. We could buy one this week and take it to Chicago this week-end—that’s how serious he has become. Not that he wasn’t serious before—but between my urge for all things Ikea (well, not ‘All’ things) and him figuring out he is making more money while having less bills, I think this may be the week he buys something. Then, we get to take a day trip to Chicago. Neither R nor I really like Chicago, so a day trip to Ikea is the best option for us. Even if we do have to stay somewhere overnight, it won’t be Chicago.
I still love the history channel or discovery channel or whatever programs they were that I watched on the Chicago eons ago—so, hint, paraphrasing here is typical. Chicago is of course a swamp, drained. White man’s battle against nature. A place that sinks ever deeper into the swamp as the city grows. A haunted and fevered place. The tales of ghosts and curses that abound on that land. I have always thought of Chicago as the opposite of New Orleans. New Orleans is a magic place, where the dead walk hand in hand w the living. The one place where I feel at home, completely. That utter sense of belonging and …acceptance. Chicago is a dead place, where even the dead fear to tread for the most part. I am not saying there are no ghosts there—I am saying there are different types of spirits. There are dark things and there are light things and there are the things that are in between.
Anyway…
R was looking through the ads that came today and we might have found the kitchen table I want—of course, I probably won’t buy anything until after we go to Ikea. But, the option is there.
We found a terrific restaurant right up the road here. Pearl Café. R and I have been meaning to try it for months. The family who owns Thai Kitchen, much farther up the road, owns this restaurant. We love Thai Kitchen. They make R’s spaghetti w peanut sauce. Pearl Café doesn’t make that dish. They do however make the most incredible food. Drunken noodles, with either beef or shrimp, is absolutely incredible. We also had panang curry—which is utter bliss w chicken. We had dessert—because of one of the family’s young children were having a birthday party at the restaurant and her mom was setting up as we were finishing our meal. We each got a cupcake. It was terrific. The food, the atmosphere, the people, everything was just awesome. We will be going there again, a lot.
Now, I had someone ask for more information on our living situation. Technically, for all intents and purposes, R and I are living together, and E too. N on the weekends too. But there is sort of a grey area, due to where all our stuff is located. Not that he doesn’t have plenty of stuff at my house. He does.
First of all, we didn’t buy the 2000+ square feet of living space, w 5 acres of land house, because it required cashing in all our reserves and savings plans. We could have done it—we would have had no problems making the payments—but we’d have no reserves. Neither of us was comfortable w having no savings plan, no back-up.
R and I have been planning to get into real estate investment since I was pregnant w N, what, 7 years ago? R took me w him to a real estate investment seminar back then, so he could make sure I had some sort of fluid income coming in. I was in massage therapy school then – and we already knew I wasn’t going to enter into that whole spa mindset -- give a massage for an hour, 5 minute break, if that, give massage for an hour, rinse hands, repeat—most spas, especially around here, are all about working the therapist to exhaustion. I have watched many a massage therapist burn out in under a year under that sort of pressure. My grandmother told me to make sure I had something else to fall back on too—as did the instructor at the massage school—statistically massage therapists burn out in 1-3 years. All I ever wanted was a few clients a week. Enough to cover our expenses and a little extra. Which is still what I want to do…and pretty much I do that now, with a lot more extra—but I normally give R all the extra.
Yes, let me re-iterate, I did graduate from massage school. No, I did not seek to become state certified or nationally certified. I do so many more things than massage. In fact, other than my kids and the dogs (yes, I did indeed take pet massage courses outside of the normal massage curriculum), I do massage on R only. He was always my best training partner when I was in school anyway—my best guinea pig.
Real estate. We had already been heavily discussing buying a rental property—that’s how we found the big house in the first place. We knew we would be buying a property. R had everything in place. The pre-approval, the research, all of it. All we needed to do was find a house. Then the house across the river was broken into—and it was all too easy for us to quickly come to the agreement that we should buy that first rental property and that the kids and I should live in it while we fix it up and get all the incidentals associated w beginning real estate investment in line. It was also understood from the beginning that it was only a matter of time before we got this settled and then we buy “our” house, the next big house. When we all live together.
Now, what I didn’t expect, and I am guessing R didn’t either, is our complete unwillingness to be separated at night. While we were staying w R in between the break in and the move in, R and I solidified a great many things, whether on purpose or not. One of these things is—we need to be together. Honestly. Neither of us can really function without one another. We need to sleep together and cook together and eat together and shower together and sit together. And all the other things we do every day as a couple. We genuinely like to be together as much as we possibly can.
You can say it’s the honeymoon period—except—we’ve always been like this. We haven’t always been so physically close—we haven’t always showered together—that sort of thing—but we’ve always enjoyed one another’s company—and now that we are a romantic couple, it is so much more—amazing and vital.
Yeah. Love is like that.
Real estate. So, we bought our first rental property, together. Technically, R did all the paperwork. All I did was give him money as I could. Everything in his name, for now. So, we can say he bought me a house—because he did—but I helped. We moved all the kids and my stuff into the house. Every morning, R gets up. He goes to work. I get up—then E gets up, and we walk to our house. I work from my house during the day, working on arranging and unpacking—although this week it has been more arranging than unpacking. Every evening R gets off work, he picks the girls and me up and takes us back to his house. Nine times out of ten, we take Ken and Princess w us. Those two are bloody well inseparable these days.
R and I are now joking about how my house is more of a storage area than anything else. However, we have also had chats about when we do start sleeping there. And we will. But when we do—so will R. There is no middle ground w us. I do not have one house and he has the other. We have two houses. As soon as I am more comfortable, as soon as we have things more set up to my satisfaction, as soon as we have both kids and their beds set up, we will be doing a lot more at my house, even though R is the one w the 42 in tv in his house now!
Last year, when we went to Pagan Picnic http://paganpicnic.org/ , R told me that this year we would get me my own booth. Well, first of all, my art work was destroyed. Not every bit of it, but enough. Then, while moving, I donated a huge bag of knitting and crocheted goods – never thinking hey, here’s what I could be selling at that booth…
However, it’s January. Even though I have a sweater to finish, a doll to start and finish and socks to finish—there is actually still plenty of time for me to create plenty of both art and hand-made items. All I really need to do is set my mind to it. I haven’t unpacked all my crochet hooks or scissors yet—but I can get to all my knitting needles—including my Denise interchangeables. Which I still need to return that one US 9 for a replacement—that was always my only irk w them—that 9 not holding the join.

So many choices. So many ideas. So many plans. The dolls, the Spirit Dolls, the other eclectic art that isn’t done with pencil or paint. There’s something I need to put on the list to sit and contemplate –set to planning things and seeing what I can accomplish in regards to all the other things I have on my plate.
Warning to all my facebook friends and family:
E is playing on facebook. R started it. He lets her handle his Farmville. Yesterday, she started on MY Farmville. Then it was fishville and petville today—now she has discovered farm town and yoville and who knows what else. So—if you think it’s me—it isn’t—but she loves it when someone sends ‘us’ anything—and on mine she is allowed to send whatever she wants to whomever she wants—and she can visit all the friends who are adjacent, where there are farms involved and whatnot. R won’t let her do that. At least not yet anyway.
Hmmfph. For now, I guess that’s it. Have fun. Until next time.
Ciao.

Fast Update For This Monday

My dd is addicted to Farmville. R has been letting her play his Farmville (a game via facebook) for a week or two now. She loves it. I don’t play the games on Farmville. I am not much of a game player like that. The only reason I play BoomBlox on the Wii is because my kids will whine and cry til I do—and then they found out I am as sneaky and as good as R at it. It’s funny to watch E—she got so upset when she found out her pumpkins died—she planted them before bed—and by the time she got to play again that evening they were dead—pumpkins apparently only last 8 hrs and then you harvest them. Dude, I have enough trouble trying to remember to water my live plants—which is why I have so many of what I have (lots of bamboo, to start)—and why I keep Peace lilies, so I know when to water them and everyone else. The Peace lilies droop and it’s time to water everyone—it’s a good system. Now that all the plants are somewhere warm—well—not all—but most—the trees are all outside. I am planning to get some more olive trees come warmer times—when it is safe to ship them…that thing is brilliant, even in this weather. I lost two of the mimosas though. R is fine w me planting them once we move into the bigger house though—he gets a tree for his mom—I get a grove for my grandfather—but then again, he knows I will plant whatever he wants for his mom too.
We’ve already been discussing our plans to landscape the new house. This time, since it is not for me long-term, we are trying to balance the needs of the grounds (since the ground shifts water towards the house) versus ease of care for renters…and still have all my other requirements…pretty…insulating…pest repelling…that sort of thing.
My one philodendron did not survive. It’s been slowly dying since the move—since before the move really. It was the only thing injured in the break in at the other house—pretty much…I have had what was left of her in a bottle of water, hoping to stimulate root growth, but her poor little heart just wasn’t in it. She slowly faded away. So, I have a lone philo on the over the door mantle—not that I don’t have pothos galore there too—but I love my philos for some reason (other than their toxicity).
I am not really certain how well my large snake plant is going to do—after the millipedes and then the frozen soil transfer. All the stalks are not dead. I lost a couple smaller ones, which was to be expected, but I do think several of the major stalks are taking and are trying to grow.
I am looking forward to warmer weather. I want more bamboo—and I have a great supplier on ebay (somewhere)—landscaping bamboo is awesome—but invasive and darn near indestructible…so I won’t do that on a rental property—although it would be a great boon in a few places…outside I am going to be concentrating more on ornamental grasses and hardy bushes. I am going to get older bushes this time around…we’ll have to see. I am not going to have the luxury of thinking hey this will fill in a year or two from now, even though this is a rental property…I want something solid that tenants won’t destroy inadvertently or otherwise…I want more house plants…I have the sister plants from R’s mother’s funeral—Chinese evergreens (I think they are called—I love them) – I am planning to get more of those. I think I can rehab the pothos he gave me that used to be in his office at ATT/IBM—I had trimmed it back to root out the branches—but the cold across the river was too much and the light there too little.
I am just looking forward to things. There’s a store nearby that has an elephant sculpture that goes outside that is also a planter…can you see me growing my herbs in that thing? Lol
R and I went furniture shopping without the kids yesterday. We went furniture shopping w the kids on Saturday—and Saturday night I took us out to outback and found out that wallaby darned’s are no longer on my able to be drunk list (after I drank two)—which sucks because I could drink a pitcher of those things and not hurt—but I conveniently forgot it had vodka in it—and just plain didn’t realize it had schnapps in it. I can’t drink schnapps—period. No explanation forthcoming—it’s just bad for me. And vodka—well—vodka bad. I only drink when R is watching me—and I don’t over-indulge when the kids are present—but—vodka bad—whiskey worse, but vodka bad. Nuff said there.
Furniture shopping without the kids a MUCH better experience—although it was fun to watch N haul butt up stairs to get to top bunks on bunk beds. R is going to make him a set of stairs for his bunk bed…we ordered the beds for the kids this weekend. But R and I are going to be renting a truck at some point in the next week or two and go pick a few things up locally for both of us.
We’ll also be able to take E’s dresser from the neighbor K back to our house the way E wants…despite the fact we might as well leave it here at R’s since we all know we’ll be moving in together sooner or later anyway…we are also taking R’s old entertainment center—more about that directly…
Last night, I got into lots of trouble. R and I stopped first at Sams Club, to look at things other than what we bought—I can’t even remember what we went to look at now—we always check out the clearance section. Other than socks and milk, we walked out of sams w a 42 inch flat screen tv—which leads us into the entertainment center issue – R bought the tv—because he had to or else I would have—so I get to buy the entertainment center for it and we inherit his old one for our house—and our little temporary entertainment center goes down in our basement—along w his old 26 in tv—and all I have to do is buy a vcr and dvd player to go down with all that.
We’re renting the truck to pick up his entertainment center, and some other furniture the kids and I need for the house. We even found E the perfect steel bench for the front porch—she has several to chose from—she’ll like the hummingbird one, I know—but I like the one w the star…we’ll see what she picks there…
Since we had the tv in the back seat when we checked out this store, R would not let me buy a fake suit of armor—this store has gold and silver suits of armor—in 4 ft and 6 ft heights--$70 to $100—and oh—E would just DIE it would be so awesome—how Addams family is that!?! I love it. R did agree when we go w the truck I can get one if they are still there. Lol I told him all we needed was a Kitty like the Addams family—but I had to explain what type of cat Kitty was…at least he and I are in agreement over cats at the moment…although once we get a barn—I will have barn cats—they just won’t be ignored and left on their own. They simply will not live in the house, that’s all.
We found a mattress—we found several actually—to replace R’s water bed mattress, which he has been talking about doing for awhile now. We are still debating on buying me a mattress for my bed at my house or not…since we have to buy the kid’s mattresses for their bunk beds, we did more direct research of our own for us as well. He told me awhile ago he’d buy me a new mattress for my bed—he told me he’d buy me a whole new bed if I wanted. As much as it drives him crazy when I buy him stuff, it goes the same way for me. Hey, of all the things we could have to deal with together, this seems a decent enough problem to have to work through! Lol I am still debating—we’ll see how things go. We may move my bed from full to queen, simply because R and I can sleep in a twin bed together without an issue, and the full is terrific—until N comes to spend the night and spends half the night in our bed w us—then R says the queen is really a good thing. I don’t know what R complains about—I am the one trapped between the two of them. At least I can get N to fall asleep in his own bed, now that we have E squared away in the other bedroom—the weirdo. I can understand her point w sleeping in the same room as N—he wiggles—it apparently interrupts her wiggling—and singing and all the other things she does…so we got that fixed…but N always crawls into bed w us in the mornings…like 2-3a, sometimes later—it’s been getting later, the earlier we send them to bed, believe it or not….so—we are making progress…come to think of it…hey!
So, we are doing really well, considering…and are all very happy.
Despite recent events (as read in this blog), things have been thunderously good for all of us here. Some days it really is down right scary. After living for someone else and living a shadow life for so very long, I am now living my own life, living w the man I love, raising my family, doing what I love for work, living in a –well—fine--living in 2 terrific houses….things are good w the ex. Things aren’t so bad between N and R…two stubborn people who love me and don’t really want to share me—although R is willing to share on his terms…it is interesting to watch these days…I worry about that boy as he gets older…he really is all his own person there.
I am surprised by how good things are. I am not used to things going this well. R knows what I get like when I am in a good mood. I EARN the nickname Tigger – I am bouncing and playful and downright startling in my energy…and now—I’m like that all day every day…I can’t wait to see how much things continue to improve. This is bliss.
Ciao.

Rejoining With Manic Monday

Manic Monday #196


What is one thing you wish you could change about yourself?

Hmmm--well, my normal range of things is already in motion...so I guess I would have to say...I'd ...hmmm...I can't think of anything I am not already in the process of changing---removing the one tattoo---growing my hair out, and my nails--there's not much else--I've worked my whole life to change things--now I just want to keep moving forward....


Do you believe everything happens for a reason?

Darn near everything, yes.


What would be your dream job?

I'm doing it--writing, drawing, sculpting, knitting, journeying...not every avenue may be paying right now, but it pays enough to keep us comfy...

Gentle Reminder

My dad is always good about sending me these gentle reminders--and I thought I would share this one....



Someone once said:

What goes around comes around.

Work like you don't need the money.

Love like you've never been hurt.

Dance like nobody's watching.

Sing like nobody's listening.

Live like it's Heaven on Earth.

Hello--A Caveat, Eh....

Seems we struck some nerves with that last post—X4 after 6 months finally unfriended R on facebook—we always wondered why –as vindictive and nasty as she is—why she never removed him—now we figure she is on an anti-R and anti-T rage unchecked by knowing he’s peeking….as if there is no one else who won’t tell him everything she says….
The woman shows up w a list of her belongings at his house after breaking into his email—weeks after he actually broke up w her —pitches a fit to get her house key and garage door opener back—doesn’t even bother to return his house key at that moment—but doesn’t unfriend him? She immediately gets the dog’s ID chip changed to her information, but doesn’t unfriend him?
Someone else once said that she had the intention of getting back together w R at some point, no matter what happened in her view—because she can’t be without a man in her life. He even said she made it seem that way at the end as well—no matter how she’s acted since—but he also said that because of her own nasty behavior w breaking into his email, he wouldn’t bother, not even to try to save her from herself anymore. Up until that moment, he had hoped that at some point she’d get over herself and they could be friends on some level, or at least operate like other friends within the social circle, ones who could interact w one another after breaking up. She broke into his email and broke his trust and that was that. No matter what she thinks he did—or what she thinks I did or anything else. There is no going back – and after the past few months of her showing her butt everywhere, even if she hadn’t broken into his email, he wouldn’t bother w her.
And then—of course—there is me. Me, who has details and information that no one wants me to reveal—tidbits and savory bits about more than X4--whom we finally did give a nickname to—we nickname all our ex’s. From Buddha boy to the Yeti—and we all know bag of hammers here—Nancy boy…one of these days, I’ll be more than happy to release specific physical traits that explain X4’s nickname amongst us…but I’ll let it be for now.
I have a nasty streak, but you have to really work to get me to show it— I am one who holds the confidences of most of my friends and associates…until someone else manages to allow me to break my bonds of silence. Until by my silence I am condoning the stupidity of others—which I simply cannot do…

R has nothing to do w what I say here. He does not influence me. He does not suggest I say things. Not this year anyway. This is all me—and this recently is me sick of him trying to be such a gentleman despite someone else’s insanity. I could write a 100,000 word novel based on the situations R has explained to me about X4 over the years (or GC, as she is now known—ask me—I’ll tell you what it stands for, off the public eye zone)—and since I know the man and how he deals w women—how he deals w situations—how he sees things and how he…categorizes things—I understand his filtering mechanisms….I know I am not getting just “his” side of the story alone…there are other things I could say here—but why? To prove a point? Like how very oblivious X4 was to the way he always bent over backwards to make her happy in any given situation? All the time, no matter how bad things were?
R does not read my blog—unless someone points something out and he checks to see if I said something that rubbed someone in particular manner, wrong or right (not including my writing blogs—since he reads those periodically regardless) –X4 hates to have her business out in public, no matter how tiny a detail—maybe if she learned how to talk and how to speak up—no one else would fly her flag of utmost insipidity quite so high….R is too much of a gentleman—even though he’s had more than enough of her little tricks and nastiness –to do what I did.
I have no fear. The only people I will actually tick off are people that don’t matter to me—or to R at this point—so I fail to see where my loss is. I am more like R—I make the best of any given situation and I behave myself in public situations—but I hate stupid people—and as nice as I can be—I have my own nicknames for a very valid reason…
So—I hope you all enjoy reading the blog—maybe one of you can point out to the Queen of Everything Twisted, you know, X4, why having you all read this blog in order to exonerate her behavior and to condemn R’s (and mine) is not such a good idea—when anyone w half an eye and a quarter of a brain who knows the two of them knows—he would do anything to make things better for anyone else—and she won’t open her mouth to save her life about anything…and if she continues her games—I have always been here—and I have the kind of information about her—and many others—that she would HATE to have out—because if you think that last post was detailed—think again—that was me being nice. My issue is not w X4—my honest and most sincere hope is she some day learns to pull her head out of her butt and see the real world around her—and realize that not everyone is an emotionless robot waiting for her to deign to give them the time of day—friend or romantic partner—my issue comes from R being …tortured emotionally and feeling castigated by friends in order to be respectful to and of an x who does not deserve that respect in any capacity.
I am still more than happy to point out, X4 has done more damage to her own self than she has to R. Not to mention—he does not feel not one iota of guilt towards anything that happened to or with X4. His guilt is about the way he treated me. Not any guilt at all about how he treated her. Because he gave so much to her and to that relationship and had it all slammed back in his face—FOR YEARS. YEARS and years and years—years when I was not an issue at all …
I still enjoy hearing how he stayed w her after that first year they were together because she has so many issues and problems, and he honestly thought given time he could help her. You cannot help anyone who 1 won’t admit they have a problem and 2 who does not actually want help. Nuff said.
I also have great appreciation for conversations he and I had long ago after I moved back from WV. He knew he wasn’t ever going to marry X4—before I moved back at all—not after the whole buying her house fiasco—and there is no other word but insanity for that—he knew he’d live w her, if she could ever get around to actually asking him to move in, or asking what he thought about it, rather than assuming everything the way she does and then getting ticky because no one reads her mind. He knew there was going to be another woman coming after X4 that he would marry—that there was another guy coming for me that I would marry—and that after our spouses died or whatever else…that he and I would get together then. He knew that, but I never did. I never pursued him. I had too much respect for him. We are twin flames, he and I. He has been my brother and my keeper since we met. I do not mess w something so pure as our friendship—had I known then what I know now however, things would have been VASTLY different, on all fronts—and there would be no ex’s in between for either of us….Now that we are together, I will fight to protect him, and to protect our relationship, and to protect our family. And I will loudly announce all manner of stupidity here on this blog—and in public—and anywhere else and in any other manner necessary. Even revealing every sordid detail of everyone’s dirt laundry—even my own—especially my own.
Yes, dear, there is a Santa Claus—and I do answer questions—just email me—and I am amazing at keeping secrets—except when you piss me off and there is no reason for me to keep secrets. But that is actually fairly rare, few and far between there.
R does have the ability to ask me to stop posting about him—he always told me I could post whatever I wanted about him—at first, there were a few guidelines, but nothing major—he always knew what I wrote—he always knew when I posted something—he may not have read it every day—he still doesn’t—but before I did anything—I asked him—I still do. Simply because he has the capacity to censor me does not mean that he will. He respects my own boundaries—which is why I am allowed to write everything I do and it does not bother him in the least. He doesn’t care who reads this—he doesn’t care how far you go back to read here. He knows, in his heart and in his mind, nothing could have saved his relationship w X4—because no matter what came out of her mouth—her actions always stated that R did not matter to her, the ‘relationship’ mattered—what people thought of her mattered even more—she needs a guy on her arm to prove she is not completely worthless or unlovable or whatever else.
When I first saw R’s wedding pictures (yes, there is a reason I say this), my first reaction was—she wanted to get married. Period. R could have been a broomstick for all she cared. She needed to get married and pretend to be a big girl. To get out from under Mommy and Daddy’s roof. Some of the things he’s told me about their relationship boggles my brain—things I would never allow to happen to myself, much less to a relationship…then again—I would have bought a weed whacker for her too….I’ve seen the pictures—I know what I am saying. And yep—it’s mean—but I stand by it…
This is X4 all over. She didn’t care about R—a broomstick would be fine. A stuffed toy would be fine. You have a dog and get attention from others there too. The who is unimportant to her. That she has a man in her life that she can parade around and say –see, I am not that screwed up—I have a man, I’m better than you—that is her whole impetus. To be able to say—I am not alone. It is something I said about her years ago under other circumstances. She needs the status of being in a relationship. Her clock is ticking. She’s over 30 now—never been married—even in this day and age, in this country, it has been proven most people, whether they have lived w someone else or not, most unmarried by the age of 30 people 1 do not ever marry—or 2 they marry and divorce—and marry and divorce. It’s not psychology, dearie. It’s statistical data. Period. X4 is desperate to be loved—it drips off of her in waves—ever since I met her. I know one woman who never married until she was 56 years old; never lived w a man; but boy, did she fight that relationship tooth and nail that first year. They still have major issues, 7 years later, but the difference is, they both went in knowing the stakes, they both went in knowing the issues, they both went in willing to deal with the issues and to work and fight and brave the storm—even if the storm lasted until death they do part. X4—does not have that capacity. At all. You have to be able to think about your partner and his emotions and his well-being—and she can’t do that, based on the past 5, 6 years w R, she cannot do that because she doesn’t know how and doesn’t care enough to learn.
Now—you can blame R for what I say here all you want. But it is all me. X4 will blame him for telling me everything he did—and for showing me pictures—and everything else—because you don’t talk about X4—if she can’t speak for herself, gods forbid you do it for her—but—humans need intimate conversation—it doesn’t require sex—it requires an intimate connection—a trust—a genuine friendship—since X4 withheld this for 5, 6 yrs from R, he sought it out on his own. And not just from me either. He did his best to include her, but she has her own life to live. Well, now she has to live it—and it’s just sticking in her craw. Otherwise, it’s been 6-8 months since the break-up.
Six to eight months, depending on whether you go w R’s date (July), or X4’s date (April), and no talking, no confiding, no smiles across a crowded room—the ex hub came back to me over and over and over and over—and if D hadn’t put her foot down on one side and Tv his foot down w me on the other—that man would probably still be trying (until he found out about R—and then the shame of me ‘stealing’ yet another friend of his would just be too much, right?)—there is none of that w R and X4. Yet, obviously, she is still carrying some sort of torch over soemthing. After this amount of time, it is time to let go. For your own sanity.
Especially since you never really wanted him—until you found out someone else did. You never really wanted him—by your own repeated admissions to him. You never really wanted him—based on the way you treated him, for all these years. You don’t treat people like dirt and expect them to stay forever because you feel like having them stay around to step on.
R has read the last few posts—and has laughed a lot at them—but has not asked me to take them down—he has said I could provide more detail as I desire—it’s no skin off his nose—he’s not losing any real friends over this—as I told him all along. Most people say—it’s between you and her—and they mind their own business—which is how real grown-ups act and how real adults respond, instead of trying to meddle or get in the middle of things or cause more issues for either party. Now, many people are upset w her because of her behavior, but a lot more people are really happy the relationship is over because 1 R is much happier and more fun to be around and 2 R is much more free to do a lot more things other than “wait on (X4) hand and foot all the time”.
If what I say here bothers you—do not read it. If it bothers you, X4, that much, do something to help yourself so you can break these patterns you have. Get the help you need. Please.
If you continue to act the way you do, just remember, we are all, not just R and not just me, we are all having so much fun at your expense—and we don’t have to do anything more than watch the way you behave. If you don’t like what’s said, do something to change the way you come across to everyone else.
And know—R and I are solid—we have been for ten years. There’s nothing you, or anyone else, can do or say that can ever change that.
That’s all I have to say about things. I’m moving on now.