A Wife's Message?

I really don't care do U?

After my first shock of disgust 

something occurred to me. 

Is it at all possible,

maybe, just maybe 

this is a message from a wife

to a sick bastard of a husband?

A trapped animal will chew off 

it's own leg

to escape.

update: Just read an article posted minutes
ago on the Guardian
that others are thinking what I thought.
Woot!

My Father's Days

My dad was not able to see 

his grandchildren very often.

Great distance and other issues

meant less than 1 week a year.

I have guilt and regrets about that BIG time.

When we would get together, he was always

intent on making memories.

Dad died when my kids were still quite young

so their memories are mostly 

through photographs and my stories of him.

That is true for all of us,

we live on in the minds of those who knew us, or 

who have heard our stories from those who loved us.

I don't think there is a person who knew

my dad who does not have a story about how 

he helped them, guided them, taught them.

When my first husband heard of DJR's passing he wrote

me and told me that is was because of my dad that

he knew how to set up an efficient workshop,

and how he thought of him often while in that room. 

After his passing,

I discovered dozens of notes from stranded strangers

he had helped along the highways.

He had an enormous retirement party

and everyone came because they wanted to be there,

to tell of their times with him.

He hit the ground running early, 

and either worked until dusk or

played by fishing and gardening.

His frequent neighborhood parties were legendary.

He filled his days well 

Grace Honor Love

Happy Fathers Day PapPap

"memory believes before knowing remembers

believes longer than recollects,

 longer than knowing even wonders. 

knows, remembers, believes"

Faulkner

Hopping Through June or The Hopscotch Mambo

Life these days is like playing hopscotch.

You hop, you jump and then you 

have to spin around in the air 

and go back the other way.

That's how I felt last night as I discovered 

I had a dozen comments awaiting moderation.

I never received an email on any of them. 

You gals who know me well must have thought

WELL, isn't she gettin' all snooty 

not responding any longer, as you all know,

 I ANSWER EVERY SINGLE COMMENT.

Even after the Where Women Create issue 

and then the book came out and 

there were over 300 in one week,

I answered every one that had an email.

Don't know how I'll fix this?

I've been hoppin' I've been jumpin' through hoops to

get a sense of normalcy and they throw this at me,

and just when I had fallen back in love with IG.

In my absence they fixed it so you can tell exactly

where you left off, the posts are back

 in a chronological order

and all those extra ads are gone.

When the hell did that happen?

oh who cares, WHOOT for IG! 

There are some new things of which I

have not a single clue but I'll learn. 

SO here comes the hop.

I was having one of those late night 

conversations with a pal Thursday, when I mentioned 

some things that shocked her and even though we've

discussed "everything" under the sun, 

and been friends many years,

do we ever really know each other?

We're back to the pondering here folks.

So I'm pondering June and how many Junes

I've experienced and I drag out the appropriate 

photo box, because you all KNOW 

it is organized with a capital O.

Oh that's another topic my pal and I covered.

The big O  hehe

I spy these

clockwise in the month of June

Senior Picture 71 - Our yellow corvette and me circa 79

College Sorority Junior year  73

Then these:

June 1971

summer session Clarion State College PA

In front of our dorm there was this puddle...

Little did we know then, 

the girl with her right hand on her hip 

and on the far left in can-can became my SIL

I'm in the red football jersey

and finally 

Me in Seoul South Korea in June of 80,

visiting my first husband on his 12 month remote tour.

Didn't know that about me did ya?

Those green overalls caused an enormous stir,

as no one told me that pants, let alone green overalls,

were not appropriate.

This whole thing then made me ponder blogging

and the faces we present.

How honest do we expect others to be?

Are we honest with ourselves?

Many folks have abandoned it

for a quick fix of IG and although it has it's place,

I am missing the chats and emails 

that formed unexpected friendships, 

where we really got into the nitty gritty 

behind the blog posts.

There are some die hards like me

that never did it for the numbers, 

but as a mini journal of my life 

and all the Junes I've had these past 10 years.

Z

Every Damn Day

I am fascinated by weird things I suppose.

I ponder things often and intensely.

Wonder where that came from?

I last bought gas on March 9.

I filled the tank today and I noticed.

I have 2 miles to go until my car reaches 2,000 miles.

Not a typo, not 200,000 but 2,000

and I bought my car Memorial Day 2017.

So 1 year and 2 days ago.

Round trip to CA included in that number (560miles)

My last car that I traded in had 

just turned over 80,000 miles

and it was 15 years old.

So is that weird because I drive so little?

Or weird/unusual because I don't need to,

 because of careful planning.

I consciously select to run all my errands 

on one day and I plan the route 

circling around until I am back home.

I've told everyone including the salesman, 

barring a recall or accident, 

this is my last car.

He called last week to ask why I hadn't been coming in for service.

TOLD you so lol

I can easily get 20 years out of this one which takes me to age 85

I very carefully selected my home 

based on price, number of bedrooms and location,

which as far as I'm concerned is the primo location.

If someday I am confined to motorized 

wheels in my older age, and I still live here,

and I've thought about this a lot;

I can reach every single thing 

I need in less than 1 block.

6 restaurants, hair salon, grocery store, Starbucks,

pet groomer, four banks, UPS, and an urgent care.

2 blocks gets me to library and an upscale outdoor 

mall with over a dozen restaurants, PB, Anthro etc.

Only think missing is a Target and I have 4 within 4 miles.

Most of my friends don't think  ponder these things.

They also don't have emergency kits

 and food and water stored.

My organizing, neatness, preparedness is all due

to DJR my Dad.

He pondered a lot and often. 

Always finding a possible/newer/better 

way to handle 

or build or arrange things.

You guys know all those boxes I have 

so perfectly arranged in my garage?

Well way back when, Dad brought home lidded boxes
that bulk typing paper came in.

He painted them all white with two coats of paint

to make them sturdier and to be able 
to be wiped clean, and nearly moisture proof.

He then measured and drew two pencil lines
 spaced apart, where he then stenciled 
the name of the contents!

You call me AR?

He was meticulous, principled, loving, kind, 

intelligent, funny, patient, faithful, and a great man

who was loved by so many.

I was the last person to talk to him.

I was alone with him,

 and lying by his side holding his hand when he died.

I miss him every damn day.

Look carefully at the tips of his fingers.

Z

Pillow Passion

Sometimes you turn a corner and in a glance

your heart does a flutter and you just know

there is something you adore and must have.

The Opal brand at Target is darling daughter's favorite, 

and I thought I would peruse for possible gifts for her.

Instead, for the first time since Christmas, 

I bought something for me.

I am still on my downsize passion,

and I donated five things last week, so I'm still on 

the right side of the scale.

Isn't she pretty?

I usually make all my pillows,

and I always buy when something is on sale,

but oh, I just loved this pillow at full retail!

I have this GORGEOUS black/tan fabric

that I have hoarded for years

and plan to make additional pillows to 

be pillow gal's friend.

I know I'm anthropomorphizing a

silly pillow but I don't care.

It's been 10 months since first Dr's appt 

and I'm soooo over it.

Yesterday I broke one of my toes.

Yeah yeah I know....

*****

#45 is a fascist

His wife has disappeared, why is that

not #1 on every report?

(Please let her have come to her senses,

and please let her spill. Please let her true friends

help her and save her.)

Climate change is wreaking havoc daily,

but let's not believe in science.

We're playing games with a nuclear armed 

country with a psychopath in charge,

AND we've begun a trade war with many

 of our closest allies.

RESIST

and VOTE!!!