Thanks to Smithsonian for the charming photo. 

Frog Pond 2.0

For those of you who followed Ananda Girl back in the day, you will remember The Frog Pond. For those of you who didn't, it's what I called my experience with online dating. As in you have to kiss a number of frogs before you find a prince. 

I'm 67 years old and a widow. I found my prince of a husband online. Prior to his death, we had discussed in length what we wanted should one of us die. This included funeral, our wishes regarding life support and other fun topics. One of those was that we gave each other permission not to live alone. A get out of guilt free ticket to move on and find someone who would share our life and open a door to living fully. Life is too short. Neither of us thought that would happen as soon as it did. I thought I'd be the first to go, since I was four years older. God had other plans. Fortunately, Randy was right with God, so I've got no worries that he is much happier where he is now. 

Here I am at my age feeling lonely for companionship. Life alone is something I am doing and can continue to do if I must. I'm still young enough not to sit and be alone forever. But that window is shrinking. My family is great, and they pay a great deal of attention to me. I'm blessed like that. They have busy lives and kids and all that entails. I want them to be happy and not worry about me. 

I don't need a man to complete me, but it would be nice to have one to compliment me. Does that make sense? Piglet is a great companion. She sleeps with me and keeps me warm at night. She amuses me all the time. Piglet can't go to the movies, discuss books or dine out. I miss those things.  I miss intimacy. Piglet is very affectionate, but she doesn't have human arms or lips that I'd want to kiss. 

I officially signed up for online dating. I've begun talking to Frog "J". He seems nice and honest but it's early days. There are more frogs out there and I'll be adding to the pond whenever one shows up. 

Wish me luck!

 Just hanging around today. 

I have a neighbor that we call "Damn Pat". I imagine that everyone has had one at some point. She reminds me of my pit bull, who believes that everything she can see is her property. There are no boundaries. However, unlike Damn Pat, my dog doesn't try to fix the world according to Damn Pat. 

I live in an HOA community. HOAs can be good or bad. It depends on the people who run them. Ugh. Damn Pat is not on the board. Instead, she uses the HOA rules and regulations to make complaints after she has told someone what they should do and they don't respond by doing it immediately. She is not a fun neighbor and unfortunately, she is my only neighbor who has a driveway and yard next to mine. 

A year ago she told me that my arborvitae along my patio were a fire hazard. She asked me to cut the bottom four feet up from the ground. She said she has a fear of fire. Huh. Like I don't after losing my husband to fire? When he died, within days, she told me that it was tragic, but it was just a matter of time, since he smoked cigars. Who says stuff like that to a new widow? 

Damn Pat does not have many social skills. Mostly because she lives in the firm belief that she, and only she is 100% right all the time. 

Because it is easier to just do what Pat says, we removed all the lower limbs from the arborvitae. Unfortunately that shocked them and they began to die at a rapid rate. So she came over again to demand that I remove the dead and dying plants a few weeks ago. 

As it happens, due to a leg injury that is still healing and my inability to work in the heat, I had to make other arrangements. My daughter was out of town. My son is working 10 or more hours and has for nearly 3 months, plus has an invalid wife and four children at home. I don't have the funds to hire someone to do this. Plans were put in place. 

Not being fast enough for Damn Pat, she once again made a formal complaint to the HOA board. I got a letter telling me to remove the plants. I called my board member and explained that plans were already in place. She was very nice about it and thanked me for letting her know. It should have been the end of it. 

Here's a shout out to ex-husbands who act like adults when you have children together. My Ex is still my friend. We share all holidays, birthdays, etc with our kids, here at my home. Proof that divorce does not have to break up a family under the right conditions. Obviously this is not always the case.

Any hoo...   Ex came to my rescue at the cost of my stuffed bell peppers. He works for food. He's not much of a cook when it's just himself. 

Last Saturday Ex arrived and began to cut the arborvitae down. Instantly Damn Pat shows up and begins to take control of the situation. I am impressed that Ex didn't go nova. It took him all day, because neither of us has a truck to make a dump run. Damn Pat who has a big truck decided that we needed to cut everything into little pieces that will fit into big garbage bags. Eleven bags, that she lined up against my house because she's afraid that they will combust and set her yard on fire. My eyes are still rolling. We are smokers. She complains about that too. To her it's obvious that we will push burning butts into the bags mindlessly. 

In actuality, we use water ashtrays that put out sparks in the ash and butts instantly. I don't allow anyone to crush out butts on the ground. I don't want to have to pick them up. I also like a nice clean yard.

By the end of the day, Damn Pat had her way and even talked Ex into giving her two of my bags of bark bits because in her opinion, I do not put down a thick enough layer. She put both bags in the small bed next to her yard. I only use one bag per bed and had already put a bag down in that bed. Ex apologized later and said he had to get her out of his hair. I get that. But how the hell did she know that I have a stack of bark bits hidden in my garage? Honestly! Invasive woman!

Damn Pat said that with the cuttings in bags, that she and her poor henpecked husband would drop one bag into each of the park dumpsters and dump the rest the following garbage day. That was actually nice.

 Then she announced that she felt that my exhausted, overworked son was not caring for the side yard as efficiently as she could. (I kicked Damn Pat out of my yard at the beginning of summer because she would not respect my request to stop mowing my lawn whenever the mood struck her.) All Sunday she was out mowing, leaf blowing and fiddling in my side yard. 

Because I never let Piglet outside alone for her safety from pit bull haters (Damn Pat), there we were on the patio. Pig was sleeping in a sun spot. Up walks Damn Pat to the gate to my patio. I was already upset because she had let herself onto my patio the day before without permission to move things around to the way she thought they should be. ACK! Pig sees her and because she is a lovely friendly dog, she jumped up on the gate to say hello. Piglet can jump 6 feet off of the ground from a sitting position. The gate is not what keeps Pig on the patio. Obedience does. And I am always right there.

Damn Pat says, rattling my gate, "Oh honey, this gate is not safe. Piglet can knock it down!" I sigh and explain that the gate is going to be replaced with a storm door and the patio front is getting lattice to close it in. Deaf ears. She follows with "I know you don't like to hear it but Piglet can really hurt someone if she gets out. It's dangerous!"  I guarantee that door will have a good lock to keep Damn  Pat out. 

So now I know what her next complaint to the board is going to be. She's been trying to get rid of my dog since I got her two years ago. I had to go to the doctor and get a prescription for Piglet to be an emotional support dog. That is exactly what she is. I'm a 67 year old diabetic living alone. Piglet knows when my blood sugar is off and pokes me in the stomach with her nose until I check it. She hasn't been trained, but she knows. Pig is also my companion and partner. My protection, just by looking like she could eat you if she wanted. But she is a sweetie pie. Don't tell the local meth heads that. They are a big problem in this town. 

It is wonderful that I have an automatic garage door opener. I can enter and exit my home in peace. Drop that door before I get out of the car. Now with the arborvitae gone, I have very little privacy on my patio. Damn Pat has suggestions for that too, Ugh. Of course she does. But I'm sticking to my plan, not hers. I can't wait for Pat to complain. I've already had my patio plans approved. Sheesh. 

Monday, I get a text from Mom telling me that Sate Farm is going to take pictures of the house that day. So State Farm took photos of the outside of my house with 11 garbage bags down the side of my kitchen. Sigh. I texted Mom back and told her to let them know that those are clippings from taking down the bushes that were a fire hazard. She texted back that they put a note in my file and appreciated that they had been removed. Good job. 

Damn Pat is exhausting to say the least. Worst neighbor in the history of my life. Have you ever had a neighbor like that? 

Now look at the cute baby hanging in the swing. After my rant, I hope she makes you smile. That's Avery about 7 years ago. Bear's daughter. One of the joys in my life that keeps me sane.

 

Hello again! I managed to get away for a few days, thanks to friends who live on a farm. It was nice to leave the city behind and just get in some relaxation with good people.

The picture above was taken on the way back. Its a little city that has dinosaurs everywhere. Need a loaf of bread, gas or chicken dinner? Dinos are waiting to help you find your way! We actually drove through here a year ago, but didn't take pictures. My grandson just about lost his mind over seeing them. I thought I 'd better stop and get the photos this time.

 They really are all over this little town. 

But we were on our way to the country to relax on the farm. We were greeted by this little individual.

Her tongue stuck out the whole time. She's elderly and very curious. There were other animals too. Ducks, chickens, cattle and my favorite... a pig named Bacon who loves having her ears scratched.

There is something wonderful about a rural setting. It's a big farm with corn on two sides. The cattle pasture is below a long lawn with a fire pit surrounded by comfortable benches and chairs. Perfect for fall evenings. Equally perfect for coffee around the fire in the morning. The other two sides of the farm look out across an expanse of fields with big mountains in the background. It was lovely.

We only stayed one night. I came home with a grocery bag full of fresh picked bell peppers and cookies. Their garden is pretty amazing. I'm sorry I didn't get a picture. 

You can see how brown the hills are this time of year in the Columbia River Gorge. I love it here. Those hills go through changes. Green as can be to brown and on to covered in snow and the show starts over.

 The river is fuller than usual. We are seeing a lot of change in our weather here. Summers are hotter. Climate change is really happening. I'm most concerned about the changes in river temps. Its not good for our salmon. There are many communities that rely on the salmon production being healthy. Most notably our Native Americans. Salmon does not just provide income, it is deeply embedded in their culture. I'd hate to see that change. 

The town where I live is dusty and dry this year. We normally have had several rain showers by now. But this year, the rain is just finally arriving. The higher temps have raised the level of the river from so much snow melt. I'm not sure if the rains will relieve the area or if they will cause flooding, which can then cause landslides. Ugh. 

It's still good to be in my own little home again. But you really cannot beat a visit to the country. 

 Hello whoever wandered in today! I've been gone a long time, so I don't expect much activity. 

A brief recap... My husband passed 1 year and 9 months ago from injuries from the fire we had in our home and resulted in my sort of homelessness for about 6 months. 

I moved home a bit over a year ago. People ask me "Isn't it weird living where your husband died?"

No. He passed away in a coma in a hospital over one hundred miles away. I would never fear the spirit of someone who loved me in life anyway. Kind of a rude question if you ask me. Sheesh!

They ask "Are you afraid to live alone?"  No. See that pink and white smiling pit bull up there? That's Piglet. She's my security crew and life companion. She's sweet as pie unless she senses unease in me or something amiss in our surroundings. This came in handy in a dark parking lot one night when we were living in motels after the fire. We were approached by two large homeless men from behind, asking me to let them into the motel security foyer. Piglet let out a low rumble that stopped them from coming closer. I've never heard a more disturbing sound. It stopped me in my tracks as well, since I had no idea that the men were behind me. Pig is with me and I am safe.

They ask "How are you?"  The meaning behind that are implies that I must be crackers by now. I am not fond of that question.

This brings us to the present. 

I am fine. I do miss Randy every single day. I always will. However, there is nothing to do but continue forward motion. When the fire happened, Mom (Who actually owns my house, allowing me to live here by her grace and kindness) told me to use the insurance money to make the house whatever I wanted it to be. It was fun to redesign my floor plan and add what I wanted where I wanted. I picked out everything from the floor up and out. Watching my plan unfold was a rare delight!

Halfway thru the remodel I was able to move back in. That doesn't normally happen due to insurance concerns and getting in the way of the workers. However, we used a contractor in the family and the workers were mostly family too. Except Richie, but he gets a pass due to his sense of humor. 

It was healing to have so many people around and all the clangs and bangs. The end result is a home that is calm and peaceful. One half expects to find a long beach and ocean when you step onto my deck. I wasn't able to live at the ocean, but I can recreate the feel of a terminal vacation. So that's what I aimed for at completion. I'm so glad that it satisfied my need for peace and contentment. It is perfect for me.

That pretty much brings you up to date. My world is smaller. People make me nervous. I'm in no hurry to be at large events or to travel alone. But that is okay with me. My greatest joy has always been my family. My son, Boo, lives a block away. He does my yard work along with his sister, Bear. I have two other sons, Swell and Squeaky who live 30 and 40 minutes away. We have cousin sleepover parties for their kids here roughly twice a month. My ex comes up to do handyman stuff. I pay for his services with home cooked meals that he craves. The kids call him "Old Man". The call me "Crazy Old Bat". These are terms of endearment. Ha!

There really isn't a lot going on to shout about on the day to day. Piglet is here only because of the prescription written by my doctor for an emotional support animal. Pit Bulls are not allowed in the 55+ community where I live. If you're a dog owner, you are aware of the let me out, let me in of dog ownership. Here, because of the rules, if Piglet is out, I must be out. I spend a lot of time on my patio that overlooks her private yard. She sleeps in the sun while I have my morning coffee and play my brain games. We do that off and on several times a day. It is important to me that she has a full and happy life. She has regular play dates with Squeaky's dog Bowie. And there is the river trail that she loves to walk. I've become a total pit bull mom. 

That's it for today. I'm not sure how often I will post, but at least once a week. So I'll leave you today with a very rare picture of myself as I look now. Give you a face for a change. 

Good news on the horizon!

The special envelope finally arrived and is on its way to the Social Security office. Once it is verified... my legal evidence of marriage to Randy... I will be awarded my widows benefits with back pay.

Yay! 

I also made a decision on my living arrangements and instead of staying in the cabin for another month, I’m going to move in with my daughter and her family. 

It’s not ideal. Bears MIL lives there too. Though, Sue Bob and I get along well. I like my privacy. What I don’t like is driving n hour each way to my home... just to check my mail or visit the doc. 

Nor do I care for paying $1,000 rent on the cabin on top of my regular home related expenses. I am rented here until the 10th. 

I can deal with the people I love for a month or so. I’ll still have a 30 minute drive to my house. That’s not awful. I actually spend a lot of time spying on my house. I crave seeing progress. As if I can hurry it along by staring at it. Serve Pro can watch me watching them. 

I’m not concerned about the remodeling as much as the clean up crew. The Bear and her man both work for my contractor. 

The plan is once Serve Pro is out, they will start with my master bedroom and master bathroom. It was the least smoke damaged part of the house. It needs new flooring and paint. Once that’s done, I can move back in, using it like a little apartment.

Both of my husbands were wood workers and I’m no stranger to construction noise. I’ll be snug as a bug. 

 

 A Rare Treat! Mama Janes

 

Mama Janes is my favorite restaurant. Open from 6:00 a.m. until 2:00 p.m.  The menus is breakfast and lunch fare. The food is excellent and the plates are as full as they can be. Home style cooking at its best! 

The theme is motorcycle inspired. The customers and staff are local and regular. Think “Cheers” but instead of beer, an endless pot of fresh coffee. No fru-fru, just a cup of Joe. 

When we shut the door on my partially burned house and completed the removal of everything that wouldn’t fall out if you turned it upside down and shook it, a good awful task, it was a big relief. Finally, the toxic cleaners would start cleaning. They showed up and it’s now a project in motion. YAY! 

The woman on the left is Orinda, my son, Nick’s fiancé. That of course is Nick. These two hauled away the last of the debris with the help of Bear. 

We celebrated by going to Mama Janes for a real sit down lunch with an actual waitress. COVID rules allow for outdoor dining. Outdoor in this case was an army tent. The tables are plenty far apart and the tent windows and doors are open. It was both weird and comfortable. The food, as always, was great. It’s been a year or more since I have dined out. I had the eggs Benedict. We all left with to go boxes, because no one can eat that much food in one sitting. 

Remember what it was like when restaurants were crowded, noisy and your food didn’t come in a to go box? Yep. Its close enough to that to feel like we had regained some normalcy. Is that a word? Ha! 

In the meantime I continue to struggle with waiting on the government to finalize my widows benefits, waiting for death certificates, etc.  Once I can produce a death certificate, we have death insurance to pay off a $5,000 loan. My dad always had death insurance on our house and loans when I was growing up. Smart man, my father. If you are buying your home and don’t have it, I’d advise getting it. It saves your spouse or yourself should tragic circumstances occur from a lot of stress. 

I hope soon to have less bummer subjects! 

COVID-19 is serious business! Wear a mask, get the shot. Do it. 

Depression is sucky

Two friends of mine are suffering with depression. One writes nonfiction and teaches writing courses. The other is a poet. I think that creative people are magnets to depression. I told them both to write their feelings, that I love and care about them. Call night or day. I know I’m chatty, but I can listen. 

 That’s a hell of a chicken! 

Today I go up river to my home town. I’ve got to pick up meds, check for mail and from there go north to spend the night at my daughter’s house.  She lives in a tinier town than Dumb Potters Hell. 

Google can’t even find it. Lol. 

We have lots of Ospreys and eagles near my home. I miss them, so I’ll sit for awhile and watch them.

Sometimes mountain lions show up in town. One found his way into a down town motel room. Unfortunately, she was put down. I’d rather they relocated her, but they do what they do. Now and then, one will attack and kill hikers and mountain bikers on the hiking trails. Nature, while stunningly beautiful has a terrible cost. Best to hike in groups. Single prey is their goal. 

Mother Nature throws some dirty tricks our way. This mudslide happed since the nw year. It claimed the life of one woman trying to flee. She was buried under 15 feet of liquid mountain. It is less than 15 miles down river from my cabin.  Pretty sobering. 

Oregon is still wild. I love it here despite the wild fires, the dangerous animals and raccoons tapping on the sliding glass door demanding a dish of cat food. Opossum scare me the most! They do not fall down and play dead for me. They hiss and charge with their needle teeth. I must look harmless running away. They are damn scary. But, they eat ticks, even Lyme diseased ticks. I appreciate that. 

Tonight the ex is grilling steaks at the Bears house Roxy will go with me. We have to trade Roxy and Layla, my grand dog, in and out of their crates. Roxy has no tolerance for frolicking boxers. 

Layla is a hoot! 

There is nothing like a dog for love and hilarious nonsense. 

Today

 I’ve forgotten how to live alone. What did I do before? 

 

This old beggar keeps me company. She’s silver faced these days. Her bark sounds like a frog burp. She walks slower, sleeps more but remains a great comfort, even when she waits for me to give her chicken bits from my chicken lo mein.  She’s sure it’s really her food but allows me to share. She gets doggie edibles CBD for her joints.  She can be stubborn when it’s time to come in from walks. Old but strong enough for tug of war. She’s my bestie . I do have human friends too. 

Remember Miss Bliss?

Life is either full blast and exhausting or so slow it’s boring. This cabin has crap internet that goes in and out. So I got myself a phone with a mobile hot spot. It’s reliable but I have to be careful of my usage or it slows way down. That frustrates me. I have never been a patient person. Probably because I have been spoiled most of my life.  Not recommended. When my first husband, the father of our 4 children was snatched out of our lives, we were dirt poor. I agonized over not being able to spoil them as much as I wanted to.  However, I believe that was a good thing now. Every single one of them are kind, compassionate and so giving. 

Me now

There’s such a thing as good solitary time. They want so much to help me and to lift my spirits. It can be overwhelming. Especially grand children. They give me joy, but their energy is exhausting. There are also many people who see me checking my house and mail who come to say nice things. I don’t mind that. They have good hearts. But I gotta tell you the lookie Lews make me crazy and mad. They want to know all the gory details, see the wreck of my house. I want to punch them in the noses. But I stand my ground and tell them that I’m not ready for that. These are people who didn’t know either of us. 

Tomorrow I will have a fast and crazy day. My son, Boo picks up my mail. He says that I have packages  to pick up. I’ll get those,. It’s a 45 minute drive each way up and back to Dumb Potters Hell. My house is at the east end of the gorge. The terrain turns from old growth Forrest to high plains dessert. It’s a twisty climb. The return is twisty down hill. Think bobsled race with cars.

Wild turkeys live here

 I have to call my MIL for the insurance claim number. He the guy in claims won’t accept my rent receipts without the number. He won’t even answer text messages. Ugh. I will get my money. He’s over $2,000 behind. I cannot afford to keep paying rent out of my savings. As is, the amount of my replacement of my things and furniture is only $2,500. Couch, chairs, mattresses, etc. I clearly will not have enough to replace them with new. Shoot, a used sofa is not cheap if it’s in good condition. MIL wants me to use her old lady sofa. 

DumbPotters Hell

I also have to battle with Randy’s SSI, to get widows benefits. They love long waits on the phone. They not see people in person. But I need them to fix this. I’ve already had his last check. My $600 isn’t going to cover my obligations. I am not allowed to report his death to them. The mortuary has to do it. Ugh. I guess there’s a lot of fraud claims when people die. 

Our mountain

That will be enough frustration for one day. I’ll be so relieved when all the red tape and bullshit hoops are jumped. Well, enough crabbing. Loves

=:/

Good night

 Yeah, he’s gone. Of course my heart aches for him.  I can’t possibly tell you what he meant to me. He was the only man who loved me totally and completely, so caring and loving. The only thing we ever argued about was what show to watch. ❤️

 A small price to pay

He was a kind heart. With love for everyone. He was a Vet who loved this country. A man who loved with his whole heart. I have never been so loved and accepted with all my heart. He loved the homeless , the broken hearted and donated. He did what he could. My heat swells with pride for the man he was. 

 He was a true Christian. Non- judgement.  He understood. I believe he is in heaven, waiting for me...someday. But I have things yet to do. I am at peace. I am greatly loved and supported. 

What else could I possibly ask for? I’m  living in a 2 room vacation cabin. Roxy is with me. (Dog.)  She ticks to me like glue. I need that. She’s 14. I can’t ask for more. We both know what we’ve lost. But we are good for now. When she passes, I’ll get a French bulldog. That’s my speed these days. Lol

I’ll probably never find a man as true and loving.  It doesn’t matter. I have been so truly loved. 

 My advice to you... make a living will. Do it now. Let folks know what your choices are. DNR and all that. Randy forgot to change his life insurance.  So that goes to his ex. The one who cheated on him multiple times. Hack!  Hard pill for me to swallow. . He thought he had time. Yikes! But I won’t go against his wishes.  Do not resent it. I am good. His IRA is mine.  Not much, but it helps. No amount of money matters. He loves me. I love him.  That’s what I have to keep my peace. 

I keep busy with insurance, IRA, dealing with SreveMasters, contractors, etc. 

He left me with a nice home. I’ve redesigned my kitchen, which I never liked. I’ll end up with a nice remodeled home. I can hardly wait for it to be finished . I want to take Roxy home. 

Much love! 

Silly rabbit

=:]

 

 

 

 Hummmm... I tried to load a couple of photos, but the rats didn’t load. 

There it is!  I’m sorry to say that Randy died on December 22, 2020. 

He spent two and a half weeks in the Burn Unit  at Legacy Emanuel, one of the best in the country. The last time I got to speak to him, he was being put into the ambulance.  I yelled “I’ll follow you to the hospital!” The EMS looked at me and said “You can’t. COVID rules” . Fuuuuuccckk!

I didn’t get to say goodbye. I’m glad I’d told him earlier that day that I loved him.  His response was his typical “I know.” Followed by a quick kiss. That will have to do. 

They put him into an induced medical coma. I’m glad of that too, even though I never got to speak to him again. They did let me be with him at the burn unit with COVID precautions. They amputated his fingers on his left hand. He had corpse and his own skin to cover the burns. I wondered if the hair off his chest would grow in strange places. Ha! They decided when the leg grafts were not taking , that the best move was to amputate his legs. 

But as it happened he developed pneumonia, as burn victims often do. Two days later his stomach shut down. He could no longer process nutrients. It was brutally clear that his organs were shutting down. I was faced with the Most horrible choice of my life. 

I had his life support turned off. Enough suffering for Randy’s body. My Bear and I sat with him awhile, said all our hearts needed to say. Then gave his family some time. 

He never had to wake without his hand or legs. No nightmare reveal. He quietly and peacefully left all that behind. 

Oddly, I am at peace with all this. God is true to His Word. Randy was a good Christian with a huge heart, big enough to love all my children and grands as his own. I know he’s up in heaven with a new young body, , happy with no sorrows. 

Probably looking at boobs and butts, making friends wherever he goes. I’ve been to buy dealing with the house, insurances, my finances, which are up in the air. Telling ServeMasters what to try to save, what not. Going thru all the things Randy collected... I mean boxes and boxes! Yikes! 

I’ve got Stu in storage. ServeMasters began to haul off the mess and begin the gutting of the house. It’s black inside from smoke damage. Toxic. Yuck.

Roxy and I now abide in a two room vacation cabin about 45 miles away. It’s tiny. The floors are cold Always. Small or not, few can find me here. No one that I don’t want to retell the story to again.  A gazillion well meaning neighbors dropped in as we were sorting Randy’s things. I need a sanctuary and this fits the bill for now. It’s too peopley out there. I’m socially challenged on normal days. I’ve got a huge support group. It’s hard to escape even them. 😂 

I will be fine. I’ve lived on my own before. I have my pit bull should I need protection. Though if a threat comes up that includes a cheese burger, all bets are off. I’m standing my ground and pushing forward. 

Love to you all. =:]

 Well it’s been awhile since I was last here. Things got happy and busy. Time ran like a race horse. 

My blog has meant much to me. As Ananda Girl and the Silly Rabbit, I made my way thru a husband in prison, his release, the divorce, the kissing of frogs in my frog pond, finding my Prince, our wedding, hist stroke, physical rehab, then his stay in alcohol rehab and his happy return. 

Life was good. My blog petered out. I retired and life became a slow and easy normal. Then as we were leaving for the coast, he had sever grand mal seizures. Scary times indeed. A week in the hospital a d he was back to himself, armed with new medications. Life returned to happiness, rolling on. 

Then, on December 5, 2020, my son called to ask if I could drive him to the store. I grabbed my purse and opened the door to the garage. I wondered briefly what smelled hot. 

I near lost my mind when I saw that Randy was sitting in his recliner on fire. The table in font of him was on fire, completely engulfed. I grabbed him from behind and tugged and twisted him to the door and halfway outside. The left side of his face on down to his right leg were flaming. I beat the fire out with my naked hands but his right foot refused to subside. I tore the foam cover off of our outside faucet filled it twice with water and the fire stopped. 

Understand some things... I was yelling help, with no response. A thought popped into my head about rape. The brain is an amazing thing. It gave me this information... in case of rape, no one responds to cries of help, you should tell “fire”.  And I began to scream it until my neighbors responded. One hooked up the hose in an attempt to put the fire out. Another called 911. Two more helped me get Randy into a patio chair away from the fire. God bless them! 

We wrapped him in a blanket. He was in shocking could finally start to see details. 

He was grievously burnt. My own brain had given me protection via that weird slow motion. It seemed like forever before the fire truck and EMTs showed up. When they took him to the ambulance time shifted into fast mode. I grabbed a fireman to tell him that there was a full propane tank on the deck close to the kitchen. He ignored that. So I repeated that to another fireman.  They’re busy, my brain told me, protecting him and the house. Ugh. Brain told me to move my car across the street. I did. 

Right. When I was busy pulling Randy out, Roxy jumped over us both. She left for parts unknown, or so I thought. In reality, she left to find Boo, who lives down the street. She brought him to me. Great relief! Boo is my oldest son. He put Roxy in my car and covered her shivers with a blanket. He gave her water and a neighbor dogs kibbles.  She has food allergies. I worried briefly. Oo said that Bear, my daughter was on her way and paid for a motel room and would stay with me. 

The fire chief wanted to talk to me. Huh? Questions I had no answers to give. I didn’t know how it began. My brain protected me from small things, like the cause. Instead it gave me super focus on what was truly important. That Randy looked like he was screaming, but no sound came from his mouth. That his eyes bulged with fear and pain and I had to get him out. That parts of him were on fire and there was no time. No help yet. My hands did not feel the fire, as I slapped it down.  I could only respond to his need and suffering. I did not care about the house. Only Randy. He took my phone number. An EMT told me that because if COVID, that I could not follow him to the hospital. 

I stood stunned by that. Neighbors and my son surrounded me. I don’t even recall the nice things they said. I was too deep inside my own head. I was living in “what if... land. What if Boo hadn’t called for a ride? Randy could have been dead before I knew there was a fire. What if I had left ten minutes prior? Agonizing thoughts.why was I unable to cry? Shouldn’t I be crying? 

I was busy beating myself up . What sort of wife couldn’t cry? Why hadn’t I smelled fire sooner? Each thought a dagger in my heart. A lightening bolt to my brain. I was hungry and felt guilt. Never mind that I’d always eaten my feelings. I was a callous jerk! 

Yet I was subconsciously hearing the neighbors in the background. I was a hero running into the fire like that. Pshaw! Heroes understand what choices they make. I was a wife,  a woman in love who saw the unthinkable and I truly did not think. My brain took right over, making me into it’s insane puppet. For what I did with my hands, I hand only two burns. One in the shape of a heart. Love was my only motivation. Love moved me. And selfishness because I need him. 

They said I saved his life. But I was saving mine too. Other comments I pushed down... the ugly ones from somewhere behind me. Like the ones I punished myself asking. I’m sure they thought I couldn’t hear. But the subconscious brain is like a recorder.  I suppressed them for later examination. I have since forgiven all. Tragic circumstances challenge the best of us. 

An very kind man, the fire station Chaplin came to pray with me. He gave me a peace of the sort that can come only from God. I am so grateful for his comfort. And for Gods. 

My bear showed up then. Glad I was. I needed to leave. I needed to stop looking at my house. Our house. I needed to leave flashing lights, smoke and men taking axes to my once scantuary with my absent husband. It was time for the false mundane and normal. 

Motel 6 provided a small feeling of security. I left with almost nothing. My purse that endured my activities strapped across my chest and my ultimate comfort, my Roxie dog. We needed each other. I slept that night with her next to me. My hand trailing off the bed to touch her back. And Bear close in the next bed. 

Enough for now. I’ll return tomorrow...if anyone is reading or not. This is therapy for me. A cautionary tale for you. I hope it gives some understanding of the aftermath of a fire for those who experience it. I will tell you this, the Red Cross is full of saints, who give their all. The firemen are angels of mercy and I can never, ever thank them enough. Good neighbors are worth their weight in gold. If you are not God followers, I understand and ask only that you look at your life in COVID, be thankful and know that it can be far worse than this discomfort. For those of faith, I am telling you sure... God is a great comfort and I feel him deep in my soul. I thank God. May he bless you all. 

Much love,

Silly Rabbit =:]

There is nothing like family. 

I have been so busy! We decided to move.  I have never had such a crazy time moving.  The amount of stuff here is astounding. Worse, both the man and his mother are terrible about letting things go.
We had so many office things; shelves, storage, old programs, clip art, and others. Tons!

I got sneaky. I got up early and hauled off boxes and boxes of "things that are still good" to charity because we will never use them again. Someone should! Every room has been filled with things that are still good. I swear that I have given a whole household away.

How can we move into a smaller home if we don't reduce the clutter? Sheesh.


So that's been happening.  There's also been a clash of agendas.  Mine is to reduce clutter and get packing. But there were pauses, like pulling up the carpet that covers the office floor... to expose the oak flooring because that will help sell the house. Common sense said, pack the office and when all packing is done, worry about getting it ready to sell.

We don't use common sense. Let's leave it at that. So there have been detours along the way.

That includes weather issues. We are currently living in ice world.  My movers (my kids) can't get down to help. Then the gorge closed from snow storms. It's been a challenge.

That's why I haven't posted or lurked.  We are now hoping to move the day after Christmas. Cross your fingers and think good thoughts. I may be off until relocation. So happiest of holidays to you all!

HELLO BABY

A while back, we lost our grand dog, Sadie to cancer.  Many tears were shed.

She is greatly missed.

But this week, this happened!

Say hello to Layla.  She is so cute and soft and sweet. Bear and Mikey P were down with the kids to help us pack and Bear decided to surprise them with this little girl.

Spoiled dog has three blankets.

Roxy surprised us all by being very motherly to Layla. She laid down next to her crate the whole time she was here and nervously watched the children play with her. Roxy is getting old. She is 9 or 10 if her paperwork from LA can be believed.  We know she had at least one litter of pups and likely more. She still runs around like crazy now and then, but for much less time. She is also concerned about the move. She knows that something is going on, but not what. She spends much of her time with her head on my knee when I am sitting down, as if to say, don't leave me behind. Never, my friend. Never.

So we are in moving limbo. Half of the house is packed, and half is in the process.  I am making many trips to St. Vincent dePaul.  How can we have so much useless to us junk? I don't know, but St Vinnie's is the best at putting money to the poor and not to themselves, so they get my business.

I made a Thanksgiving meal for Bear's family  and Mom and Dad.  The guys worked hard and the Bear is amazing at packing and cleaning.  Mom kept Randy on task, which is not as easy as you'd think. They deserved it. There is nothing that I like more than the sound of happy family gabbing and eating all around me. 

Good thing. We have a "down here" family Thanksgiving on Saturday.  Something to look forward to.  The Bear and Mikey P said that they would be back in a week too. We shall see how that works out with school and their family up there.  Sometimes the best laid plans go wonky. When ever it happens, yay!

Have a wonder filled holiday. Be safe and be happy!

Hello, it's me!

Hello, it's me!

I know, I fell off the radar for about 2 years. Very stressful years. When I get stressed or depressed, everything else goes out the window.

I truly do not know if anyone will notice that I have returned.

Or if I am just sending words out into the web to dangle. It doesn't matter. Either way is fine. I just want to use my voice.

My husband had a stroke close to 4  years ago now.  I see those FB posts that ask "If your spouse became disabled, would you leave them?"  What a stupid freaking question. Not if  you love them. Duh. That being said, it is a difficult adjustment. We had a sudden, massive loss of his income... and a 3 year battle to get his disability to start.

Eventually it did and bills were paid, family repaid and we ate real food again. Yay! I was the only one working and the only one cleaning, keeping up a large yard etc. Being the only one who handles pretty much everything gets exhausting when times are difficult.

Working at the Big Dub-yah ended for me a few months ago. In 3 months I had been to the urgent care 3 times for work related injury. Tendons in my arms went crazy and my back had fire across it and down my leg. There wasn't a box I picked up or something I reached for that caused any one problem. The problem is that I'm getting old. I'm 62 and the Big Dub-yah was wearing me out before my time through overuse.

I left work one day feeling miserable physically and emotionally and when I tried to get up  the next day, my arms refused to lift and function. Just call me T-Rex. The doc said to do nothing at all for 10 days. This does not fit into the Big Dub-yah's idea of how long  you can miss work. You can bring in a note from your doctor, but unless you get cleared by the no pay time off police, you can be fired.

I did not give a damn. Fire me please! But they did not want to fire me. The day before I was supposed to return, I phoned to say that I wasn't. I "retired" without pay. 

You have no idea how much that elevated my attitude. Slowly I have become human again. My body still gets sore, but I can stop and wait for the pain to pass and then continue whatever I need to be doing. I am now waiting for my Social Security to begin... in a month or so. I have no faith in their ability to keep their date promises. If it shows up on time, I'll be thrilled.

Then, a little miracle happened. Our home that we live in is my husband's inheritance. There was, when we first became engaged, a total drama melt down by his daughter over thinking the house was hers. But as long as Grandma lived, it was Grandma's house.

No Grandma did not die and hopefully will not for a very long time. But what Grandma did do was come to a decision that she wanted to sell this house.  There is still money owed on it from a second mortgage. If she sold it, she could pay off the mortgage and pay for a house in full for us. A house that was not as large and hard to take care of... because it is a handful. Randy is to get his inheritance now instead of when she dies. 

Our house in our name, including mine. The deal is that if Randy dies first, I live in the house as long as I live. Then Randy's children can sell the house and split the money. And its all in writing. 

So we began to look for houses. The market here sucks. Not much is available. Then Mom suggests that we look where I used to live so that we can be closer to my kids and our grand kids. I have missed them so much! What a total joy.  My kids love Randy and he's Grandpa Fuzzy to their kids. The family we have here are not close. They live 10 minutes away and do not visit. (Residual divorce bitterness.)

So I called the Bear and together we began hunting the internet for houses in the Gorge. It was amazing how many nice homes were available. Mom was just as excited as we were. Two days later, Bear had a real estate agent lined up with a tour of possibilities. Off we went with Mom and Dad to look at houses.

The third one we saw was it. No doubt. Perfect for us in every way. 

It's got 3 bedrooms, 2 full baths, dining, kitchen nook, living room, an oversized garage and a covered porch. There are already bars in place to help Randy go safely up the two stairs from the garage to the house and in the master bath. He has some balance issues. The shower is big enough for two people in the master bath... which is great because he needs help making sure he gets rinsed on his left side. His brain forgets that his left side exists.

So we are ready for a new adventure. The town we chose is not Dumb Potters Hell. It's further east. But close enough to Max and Eli (pictured above who still live there), the Bear who is 15 minutes west, and Boo who lives in the same town.

I go now to continue to pack... ugh. I hate moving. So much junk! Where does it come from?  BTW, my Ducks suck this year. I still love them. Sniffle. Roxy thinks something weird is going on and is watching to be sure that we don't run away again. Life is full of adventure once more, and I can hardly wait to experience what it holds.

Same time next week!

Who wouldn't want to sit here?

Who wouldn't want to sit here?

Ok. Me. I would not sit here. 

Ever.

Hard to imagine but the man has been gone for 

25 days already. He is coming home on Wed. I have some mixed feelings. I know that sounds bad.

The reality is that I have no idea what to expect.

I wonder how much of his odder behavior was alcohol and how much was stroke related.

Truthfully,

I think he has had some personality changes

from the stroke. He is much quicker to frustration than he used to be. Computers drive him crazy. Crazier than they do the rest of us.

His impulsiveness is through the roof. He sees something and he wants to buy it now... right now.

NOW.

But I also think it was magnified by alcohol.

So yeah, 

my feelings are a bit mixed and apprehensive.

Loyalty is a huge part of my character make up.

Feeling iffy, feels wrong.

My feelings of excitement are dimmed by cautious curiosity.  Have things change for the better or not?

I will be driving him to AA meetings.

I am trying to find him a group that has other Vets.

I found one that is held in a Veteran's building.

I'm hope other Vets will be there.

That will give him a sense of community with people with other things in common beside

drinking.

The man needs friends.

Since he had his stroke, his friends have vanished

for the most part. So I am also looking into the Senior Center here. He just squeaks in age-wise.

I am hoping that they will have card games or checkers... something to just drop in and play.

Maybe even crafts, which he loves, or other classes.

He needs a regular group of people to see while I am off working.

His kids are too busy. 

Busy, except for the one who lives so far away. 

He is visiting his dad today.

He's my favorite.

So today I am off on a trip of discoveries...

looking for activities for the man.

I put a pot of Chili Colorado into the rice cooker

that doubles as a slow cooker. I'm hoping that works out well. If not I'm going to be eating it anyway for a while. Waste not want not as they say.

Here are some random things to share:

I have earned a full week vacation.

Yay! Yay! Yay!

I can't have a "requested" day off until after Christmas.  Boo! Hiss! I was ready to take that vacation as soon as I got it. Oh well.

We got a new dress code.

We now have to wear dress shirts and slacks.

And joys of all joys... a vest.

The vest is ugly.

It is made of a thermal weave fabric.

The front of the vest proclaims in print that 

"I am a proud Big Dubbya Associate."

I'd like to know where they got that notion.

If you recall a few years back, some nut job

woke up with the bright idea that all the Big Dubbya Associates who had smiley faces on the back of their vests would make excellent targets for 

shooting practice.

The decided that the happy face vest was not a good idea after all and told folk not to wear them.

The smiley faces are gone, but have been replaced with what I like to call the

 "Big Dubbya Asshole".

They call it a "spark" but that does not make it any less of a big o'l target.

I am less than thrilled about wearing one.

But on the bright side, it will make a nice bib at lunch time.

See what I mean?

Asshole.

And with that snarky comment...

I hope you all find silver linings in your troubles today.

=:]

OH!

I almost forgot!

Shife's book is here!

 
Confessions of a Dumb, White Guy

Congratulations Shife!

I cannot wait for my copy to arrive!

Isn't it exciting?

 

Soberman

Randy has been sober and in rehab for 12 days.  Seems longer but a short time as well. Time gets to play that sort of game.

The in-laws and I drove up to see him on Sunday. I was packing along the list of things that he wanted me to bring; his old army field jacket, a compass,(it is a huge complex and he gets turned around easily), DVDs (mostly avenger movies), a rain jacket, boots, remote wi-fi, a roll of quarters, an alarm clock, and more. It felt like I was moving him there.

The drive up was one filled with mixed emotions. Wanting to see him, excited about that. Worry about how he was taking being there.  Our last communication on the subject of his "being there" included keywords like "prisoner" and "touchie feelie crap". I had not asked about it since and it had been over a week. I had no idea what sort of mood I would find him in. Especially with the in laws in tow. Would he clam up or would he be willing to communicate?

As it turns out, he was happy to see us. He immediately drug me off on a hurried walk by ourselves... to the ATM. Hummmm... not the sort of thing I was expecting, but yes, giving him spending money was fine. He did give me a decent kiss and hug out of sight of "the others" which includes staff and peers. Our initial one was stiff and brief.

Then he checked himself out for a field trip. He wanted to go to an Army Surplus store... which turned into 3 of them. He is looking for particular patches for his field jacket for his training at Ft. Knox and his tank division. We ate lunch out and then returned him so that he could blow into the machine and prove that we had not allowed him to drink.

We sat and visited and then walked and visited. Nothing earth shaking happened. He seemed fine but also on edge. He lost a glove, which we found... and I also found a pack of camels in his pocket. This, I silently pondered and did not share the information. I knew that finding his cigars would not be easy for him, if even possible, on campus. 

I looked over his schedule of classes... a good assortment of themes to do with how one feels about ones self and alcohol issues. That evening he would attend his first AA meeting. Prior to this he had said he would never do AA.  My feeling on it was that he felt it would be embarrassing for him... a blow to his pride... to stand up and admit that he was an alcoholic. I made no comment on his confession that he would be attending. I wait instead for his comments on what happened there and how he felt about it. 

It was exhausting for me. Sounds odd that it would be hard for me when I was not an inpatient, but there was a great deal of emotion flowing in the undercurrent up there. You could see signs of stress on the faces of his peers, and on his own. As we visited one man was begging his wife to reconsider and wait to see how he did in rehab... a projection of desperation not to lose his family... a strained plea over a public phone... his head down to hide his misery while his hand roamed his face and head, pressing and rubbing.

We noted the change in Randy, well many changes in Randy.
But the one I speak of now was an increase in agitation. It was time for us to take our leave and let him get on with it without the pretense of a happy family get together.  He walked us to the car and gave me a long, tight hug. He whispered that he was sorry if he had been an ass. 

"Well, if so, you're my ass and I forgive you." I whispered back.    I watched his back as he hustled down the sidewalk to the smoker's area, a cigarette already lit, clinging to his lip. 

I can see a difference in his walk. He moves at a brisk pace that I have not seen him achieve since before his stroke. His mind seems more alert. His body looks healthier. And he likes being there. While we were off campus eating, he developed that same agitation and we took him back... he feels safe there. That is good. He told me that they all had shared experiences that no one else understood (service related) and he had never had this feeling of being understood since his stint in the Army.

They gave him a new walker that is very nice and streamlined. He uses his brakes like a BMXer. It was clear that he was thrilled to have it to replace the clunky old folk ones he has here at home. I'm giving those away. Anyway, there was much to be impressed with... progresses, changes for the positive. But there is still work for him to do.

My in-laws live about 45 minutes north of me and wanted me to stay the night. Nope. Dorothy was right... there is no place like home. As soon as I heard the clicking of Roxy's claws on the oak floor, I felt all the heaviness of the day slide away.  We exchanged kisses and wiggles. She got a couple of cookies and her evening meal. Then we flopped down to watch Netflix for the rest of the night.

I am doing okay. I have lots that I am sorting in my head. I am not unhappy or upset with Randy. I want whatever is good for him to come out of this. 

He is one of those people who was raised to keep emotions tied up inside... buck it up... be a man... by a man who would not accept him as a son who could ever measure up to his own mighty self.  One of the unfortunate who truly did get a beating when he did things wrong.  There were very strict expectations... these expectations he passed to his own kids to a lesser degree. There is much family emotional cancer to be cut out.

I stand on the fringe.  I see some hard times ahead, but I also see great potential for real growth and happiness.  At this point its not up to me.  I'll just hang out and do what I can to help and support.  

On that note... hope you all had a fine weekend and enjoyed it with people you love, who love you!