Clarity

While no one can truly love their wrinkles, infirmities and seemingly endless doctor visits… the distance age provides can be healing. I’d rather be young and firm, but peace that comes from understanding is its own reward.

To wit:

I left my horse on the farm with mom when I moved out. A few months later she’d sold the horse and all the tack.

‘Rage’ is too calm a word for the feeling I nurtured for most of my adult life. The newer saddle had taken me months of saving to buy! And my horse! (The one I hadn’t even been back to visit because I was too busy.)

What did I expect?? This old woman with rheumatoid arthritis was supposed to toddle across the pasture to the barn to feed and water the horse? Well, no feed in the summer.

She did what she had to do, what she’d done every time I looked away from some possession. Sell it or give it away. Birthday and Christmas gifts came with the understanding that I lose it and everything else if she wanted.

So I grew up not prizing things. They’re temporary. Easily taken away. I prefer a small amount of possessions, just enough to fill the smallest UHaul. A stark contrast to my hoarder husband.

Anyhoo, I forgave my mom and I hope she forgives me for being a shit about everything. Wherever she might be…

She was 43 when I was born; already tired of bullshit.

March Sky

I’ve actually been looking at the beach skies more than the skies here; they seem to change more dramatically.

The man is such a hoarder I’ve been using my time wisely by spring cleaning and now have over 20 bags for Salvation Army, as well as furniture.

Single living was so much easier. Everything had a place and was kept there when not in use. Sounds strident, but an apartment is not made for mess. Getting tired of the warehouse look.

Also, nobody tells you that sheers aren’t visible unless you look from the side. Or are these simply more sheer than usual sheers??

Wasted 7$ on these.

Age, my Friends

Is a big, besotted bitch. Truly. She loves making us look like fools. And nothing makes us feel elderly like really stupid mistakes, right?

Arriving fully five minutes ahead of my appointment, I found the dental office closed and locked. A quick call revealed that my appointment was for MARCH 17!

So I came home and pigged out on ice cream. It IS Fat Tuesday, after all!

There was another really stupid thing I did yesterday that is beyond the reach of what few brain cells are left.

Pictures of Mike working on the plumbing…


Being at one with the pipes.

*Silly man pretending to sleep.

Yes, plumbing makes me doze right off as well…

*I wouldn’t say he’s silly if he wasn’t such a sweetheart.

2026

Hope your new year will be everything you wish!! Peace, prosperity and chicken pot pies. (My wish)

Our year came in with a bang! And since (again) I’ve no clue which photo I like better, here are two.

They look like something at an art gallery. And yes, it was night. It really looked like this; my husband is my witness. I’m also shocked my old phone did this well.

Reflections

Can’t stop won’t stop.

As I’m a very busy person (we’ll wait while you laugh) the decision to shoot yon wee shell was an easy one. Just can’t decide which one I like.

In the Dark

The power goes out and every little thing turns to bollocks. Stupid things, just because it’s dark and the quest for light is an overpowering need. Also, coffee.


Using a flashlight I took a candle out of the pantry and lit it; a beeswax. I’ve gotten a lot of hours from already, which is why it’s my go-to. It’s sitting on the counter while I pop back under the counter into what I think of as my ‘light cubby’.

And bent over like that, my hair caught on fire.

If you’ve not experienced this bit of lunacy… thank goodness. It’s a mess. A big mess.

Ash was everywhere; my clothes, the floor, counter, sink… oh, along with burnt globs of hair.

The smell is such that I’d have preferred a skunk invade my underwear drawer for a week!

Though waking my husband was not on my to-do list a shower was a definite must. As I pulled off my clothes and ponytail thingy more burnt hair and ash… should have done that in the kitchen. (After all, it was dark.)

No, you don’t get pictures. And tomorrow, I’ll hopefully get it repaired or shaved off.

EDIT

Simply adding that six weeks ago my hair was chopped off short. It was much too long, so… impelled by the mythical ‘wild hair’ I gave my husband a pair of shears and told him to cut it off.

And he did.

Now? Bet he thinks I’ve got a hair vendetta.

No, haven’t looked at it yet.

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