contemplation . . .

and so at dusk, I find myself fully fed, glass of wine in hand, sitting on the deck with Pippin, unwinding.  It's not that my days are packed or uber stressful, but they are different now . . . I am more mindful of being solitary.  It's not a bad thing, just different.   I need to get used to the newness of it all. 

The woods are full of feral cats and they come to visit if I am quiet.  Pip doesn't quite know what to do with these encounters and gets shooed back inside.  She lives an encapsulated life and is not vaccinated for company of this sort.  She cries piteously to be let back out.  I tell her to go play with Ninja and Bear but she is only two and wants what she wants when she wants it. 

And so a calmness and a sameness have settled into the cave and into my life.  I am developing new habits built around oneness.  I keep the house cleaner.  I have to concentrate to make sure I am eating correctly.  I am sleeping again and keeping my nose in a book.  But I miss the chaos of two lives intertwined.  I miss my sloth.

even the gulls do yoga . . .

back to the beach again today, and doing a happy dance. we walked north this time until we thought maybe we had found Lee's aerie and we had.  she came out onto her balcony and waved.  we wandered on for a bit more and then headed back to the car.  this time, we didn't have a mileage check point so we went by time.  an hour and a half.  had to ditch the sneaks for the last bit home.  so lovely to feel the sand between my toes again.

oh, and of course we had to stop to pay homage to the birds all balanced in Vrksasana or the Tree Pose.  How bad is it that birds do it so much better than I?

then off to slurp up some lovely flat bread with goat cheese, spinach and tomato.  a very good day.  thank you my friends!!!!

good for the soul . . .

this morning, Joanie and i took our walk to the beach.  I had forgotten how beautiful it was down there. 

 And here it is without me playing around in photoshop:

I didn't realize until I downloaded it from my cell that it had sand graffiti.  But that is all part and parcel of the beach.

Great walking.  Great company.  Great weather.  A definite do again!

i don't want to talk about it . . .

(this is your cue to stop reading right now and go do something constructive.  Adios.  Shoo.

What?  Still around?  OK, you gluttons.  you were warned . . . )

today just wasn't peachy.  it started out fine.  I got that rare urge to scrub the heck out of the kitchen, got some long overdue paperwork mailed out, changed the linens, made some phone calls and was just relaxing with a mug of mocha when I got a call saying our taxes were done:  mine, kidlet's and the 9TS's.

Off I head to pick them up and here's where it gets tricky and starts to go down hill:

I go to the attorney with the sloths taxes.  The attorney sends me to the bank.  The bank doesn't seem to agree with the attorney, screams and pulls a few of their hairs out.  The bank sends me back to the attorney.  The attorney screams and sends me back to the bank after he pulls some of his hairs out.  From bank number one, I go to bank number two.  They send me back to the attorney, who is now bald.  Seems the banks and the lawyers don't see eye to eye or hairline to hairline as the case may be.

Actually, I can deal with all that.  It was a drop dead gorgeous day, the top was down and in a perverse sort of way, I was enjoying the drama between the banker and the attorney. 

What went wrong, you ask?

Bank teller #1:  was he your husband?  how long were you married? OMG, he died the day before his birthday.  yada yada yada.

Bank teller #2:  he was young.  how did he die?  There's a lot of that going around.  quack. quack. quack.

Now I know they meant well . . .  and it is all just small talk.  The stuff people say when you're both hanging around waiting for machines to spit out paperwork.  The point is, in person, I don't want to talk about it . . .  heck, I avoided my shrink for six weeks because I thought she was going to make me talk about it . . .  she didn't by the way . . .

I can rant here because this is my blog.  And the conversation is, after all, rather one sided.  But I don't want to talk about losing the 9TS.  Seriously.  Don't ask.  It's like someone sticking their finger in an open wound.

And so as not to leave without sharing at least one tidbit of amusement, this is Pip at her thieving best:

flitting about . . .

the new pads for the furniture finally came.  now i can spend indolent afternoons on the deck, reading and warming my old bones under a slathering of sunblock . . .   not to sidetrack my own post but kidlet and i both have appointments with our dermatologist this afternoon.  have you made your appointment yet?  . . . mostly though, i like to grab a glass of wine and sit on the deck in the early evening and watch for beasties in the woods behind the house. it is there i find peace.

the pool guy was also here this morning.  it was like a party on deck.  the water is still green but getting better.  robert promises he will get it fixed.  joanie and i have plans for water aerobics this summer in lieu of walking in the miasma of summer heat.  i need to perfect my underwater self.

rambling to a totally different topic . . . my early morning net reading includes several blogs; some i have been reading for years and some that are relatively new.  they all touch me on some level.  while some fiercely attack my funny bone, some lift me up, and still others infuse me with their spirit.  unfortunately, there is appearing, a newly sprung commonality among three of them.  divorce.  and it hurts to think of these strong women fighting to right their equilibrium.

and so i thought, which is harder:

when i divorced my first husband, it was not he I missed. instead, i mourned the failure of my marriage. my inability to make a lasting healthy connection.  that is until i got further from the pain and realized that my marriage was destined to fail because my husband had priorities other than kidlet and i.  we deserved better.  i hope these women come to that same realization.

losing the sloth was different.  it was like losing my soul.  the pain is deep and searing.  it has shaken my core and rocked my faith.  it is not the sting of  'why did he not love us enough',  it is the pain of losing someone who loved us completely.

and so for me, it was, of course,  his loss.  the emptiness in my heart.  the stillness where there once lived laughter.  and while i realize it will get easier and i am blessed to have found him in the first place.  to have shared fifteen years of marriage. i must admit it ain't easy.  life just isn't easy. 

switching one more time: 15 months NED!!!!  You are rocking it, c.

it's not easy being green . . .

unless you happen to be Stacie's belated birthday cake . . . and no, we are not talking mold!!  This little guy was chocolate filled and oh so good. 

he only feeds about four and was quickly decimated except for his lovely green countenance.  Stacie took that home.  and i know you're not thinking I had anything to do with his making, said she who does not bake. 

kidlet and my great adventure . . .

at the gun range.  now it must be stated that the 9TS was a gun guy.  he had a great respect and love for those heavy blue chunks of metal.  he was a marksman.  he also wanted me to be able to fend for myself.  and told me who and where to call when the time came.  i am so not a gun gal, but i called anyway.

and so Sunday morning, Kidlet and I spent 3.5 hours learning the ins and outs of revolvers and semi-automatics.  safety. handling. care. and yes, firing those puppies. CAH-BLAMO!!!! i blasted that paper target.

some of the guns were so heavy my wrist was sagging.  some had quite the kick. once the instructors explained how a semi-automatic works, i had a momentary vision of a lost thumb and serious misgivings but found reasonable reassurance in their training skills and the fact that they were all EMT's.  GAH!!!  but all in all, it was a great learning experience.  and Kidlet and I will be going back to practice.

we are so bad!!!  Not!!!