Despite all the whining, I’m…what’s the word I’m looking for…happy?

I love my new place.  It’s a blend of old and new.  It’s open and airy, yet cozy and comfortable — all the things you see in ads to entice you.

I love my kitty.  There’s something so…silly…about the way she looks.  I can’t help but smile, even when she’s sinking her teeth into my hand, or pouncing on my feet, or licking my cheek to get up.

Upsidedown Jazzy.jpg

I love my walk to work.  There are people walking dogs, jogging, going to the local law school nearby.  I have taken two pictures so far of vines on fences.  Yeah, you heard that right.  VINES. ON. FENCES.

vines on fences.JPG

There are some property-proud people in my neighborhood.  My house is that way, too, but I don’t do the work.  My downstairs neighbor does all that, and I get to live in it’s beauty, and occasionally am offered some of the bounty.

I listen to my new favorite artist on my phone on my walk – Hozier.  I sometimes sing out loud with him.  I have always done this kind of thing softly, but lately I think, what the hell?  I know I must look like the special needs girl at the bus stop who sings at the TOP of her lungs to music no one else hears.  And, so what?  I’ve always admired her abandon.

I like that I can mostly (more than in the last 25 years) predict things:  my day, my bank account, my relationships.

It’s almost overwhelming, which is a thing with me.  A good thing.

Who said that?

Martha?  Is that you?


New (additional) obsession: Shameless U.S.

I’m late to some of these parties, but it doesn’t seem to matter.

Image result for watching tv

Since my last child left the nest and she is tucked into her sophomore year at college — pretty far away — far enough to pause over an impromptu weekend trip home —

I have a lot of time to chat with the cat and surf Netflix.  The cat is very haughty about Netflix, but cats are haughty about everything, (except laser pointers), so I’m not going to feel demeaned by that.

I’ve always had a weird feeling about William H. Macy, husband to Felicity Huffman, and man with a name too similar to W.B. Mason, our office supplier.  Actors, am I right?  Bill?  Bill Macy?  I first paid attention to him in Fargo.

As is very often — too often — the case, my first impressions are usually wrong, or will change.  Macy is so good in Shameless, but despite being the drunk patriarch of the Gallagher family, he’s almost the straight man to all the other characters and their stories.

The thing I like about it is that it highlights the complicated relationships in families.  Sure, you can say you’re going to cut out this or that family member, but they are still going to be there, waving to you occasionally in your mind, quietly being cut out.  For decades, if need be.  They can wait.

I also love the way the kids seek circumstances or individuals to teach them lessons their family “should have” taught them — unconditional love, integrity, forgiveness, you know.

I’m scared and sad for them when they get “hustled” by someone.  It must seem so easy to hustlers.  Everyone wants so badly to feel like the person they just met is different, trustworthy, or changed for all time by one stint in rehab.  Where has this person been?  Well, statistically speaking, probably hustling someone who else who finally caught on.  That’s where.  We, the collective naivete, need to heed this saying more than all others, “If it seems too good to be true, it probably is.”

I told my therapist that at this point in the journey, I’m scared.  I’ve said many things to her, but never that.  She said, “I would imagine.  You’re walking through the scariest part of your movie right now.  The circumstance you tried so desperately to avoid is happening right now.”

Well, that’s great.  I’m a scaredy cat.  She did add that I’m doing fine.




Likelinley, the re-boot

Likelinley, the original (0 – 28), was:

  • full of wonder
  • a girl who took senior pictures with her cat
  • a girl who only spoke the dialect of math that is reading music
  • a girl who felt a soul connection to trees
  • sure there was magic at work
  • a girl who believed that she would be famous someday for something
  • a girl who was confidently smart – 5th in her class – (of 25)

Likelinley, 2.0 (29 – 52), was:

  • too tired to wonder
  • a woman whose husband was allergic to cats (a lie)
  • a woman who put down her instrument and also never sang
  • a woman who wished the trees would part, just for a minute, so she could confirm the sky was still there
  • sure magic was just for her kids
  • told she was ordinary, worse than ordinary, a disappointment
  • in search of her confidence

Image result for tired mother

Likelinley, the re-boot (53 1/2 – ?), is:

  • able to take time to wonder again
  • a woman with a cat friend
  • a woman who is taking a second look at math — the balancing the checkbook part and the reading of notes again — to make a little music maybe
  • a woman who loves trees AND sky
  • a woman who has caught a glimpse of magic running around delighting people — all ages
  • unconcerned with fame and image
  • confident that things will work out

Image result for woman and cat

Miney-Mine. Minety-Mine. And the cat’s.

I have been eyeing this table and chair set at an antiques gallery for a month or so now.

Too big…too small.  I couldn’t remember how big my new kitchen was.

Maybe the space was long and narrow.  An island might be the thing.

I needed to be able to eat there.

In light of yesterday’s news, I went and got it.  Paid cash.  I had been back, knew it was more of a square room, and could visualize the table there.

The great thing is that it’s mine.  mine Mine MINE!  Mine-y mine.  Minety-mine.  And the cat’s.  Natch.

This is going to be so fun!



Father Time, Mother Earth, and most cats

This vendetta is getting so heavy I’d like to put it down.

I have lots of excuses for carrying it:

  • If he would at least ask for forgiveness I could entertain giving it.
  • I am always the “giver.”  Why do I have to “give” my forgiveness AGAIN  — especially since it was something he banked on?  Did the deed because it would all work out ok?  How does that honor me and what I went through?
  • As people say, it does hurt me more than it hurts him, but I’ll take any hurt it causes him.

Yuk!  I disgust myself.

My daughter did something “unforgivable” in high school.  Precious few of her friends stuck by her.  Two of her closest are still adamant that they won’t forgive her.  Her actions hurt those two the most.

My daughter had a big scary battle with depression and anxiety.  I feel like she could not be held accountable for what she did because of her mental state.  And, afterward, in a clearer state, she begged people to forgive her.  Still, some of them practically spat in her face and walked away.  Some of the parents of these kids talked smack about my daughter, too.  I didn’t understand why they couldn’t understand that she was young, sick, under a lot of pressure (including her father leaving us), etc. and she deserved a second chance.  I told her that people who couldn’t forgive her haven’t needed forgiveness in their life yet.

But, “-” never asked for forgiveness.  In fact, he said he was not shamed.  Not sorry.  He would not hide from society.

So, I still haven’t been able to forgive, and as I said, the vendetta is getting very heavy to lug around.

Does someone have an answer to this?  I have read to the ends of the internet for clarity, but there has been no ah-ha moment for me.  It hasn’t worked to say that living well is the best revenge, forgiveness is for me not him, blah blah blah.  None of that works for me.

How can I forgive him for something he’s not sorry for (and flaunts) and honor myself?  How can I forgive my daughter so easily, but not him?

Believe me, I have needed forgiveness in my past, too.  I want people to give me a second chance.  But, I really believe that I try not to hurt people, don’t do it on purpose, and if I do, I apologize.  Does everyone think that?  Am I just as “bad” a person as he is?

Is the answer to this issue that bastard again? Father Time?

Father Time, Mother Nature, and most cats, rule us all.


I may drift away with giddiness…

I signed the petition Friday.  He signed it Saturday.  He filed it this morning!  He paid the fee ($250)!

My car is paid off and mine.  My phone is paid off and mine.  I am looking for an apartment that is mine.

I no longer am paying a share on an underwater house with a leaky roof, college loans for my daughter, 3 car loans, his law school loans, a family phone plan.  Those are for him and my replacement to enjoy — leaky roof and all!

I am responsible for myself.  And the cat.  And this and that for the kids.

I feel like I will have to tether myself to the Earth, I’m so light and giddy.


30 days or so and I can put all that crap in a Pandora’s box and move on unencumbered.

I promised myself a reward for getting through this when it’s done.  I think when I get the official decree from the court I will go get that reward.  I have some ideas but will relish the thought of picking “the one” and getting it.  For me.