It's Tuesday.

Plain and simple.

The view from my garage door down the driveway to the road. Must be standing behind the car, lol.

  Yes, gentle readers, it's Tuesday. And I am in here stalling. I should be out mowing and finishing that up. But I'm not in the mood just yet.  I've just finished some breakfast and the critters are all fed and watered and loved up.  And I'm still sitting here, telling myself that as soon as I finish this coffee, THEN I'll go. My stomach is a tad upset, and I thought it was from coffee and not eating, so I ate. Still not right, but I'm sure that once I get off my derriere and move, it will be better.  Right???

  I'm all achy and limpy from the mowing I did yesterday.  It's par for the course.  If I wasn't willing to get all achy and limpy, I wouldn't be doing anything at all ever. And I'm just not going to roll over and play dead because things make me hurt. It's a fact of my life. My body is busted up and I'm old and stuff hurts and so what?  In a minute, I'll take some good old fashioned aspirin and be on my way. It's just the way it is. And I'm a real stubborn ass sometimes and that's just the way I roll. They told me I might never walk again.  Bet me. Guess I showed them.  lol

  I was looking at this picture this morning and thinking about the long road home. About how my life has been so exciting sometimes and so common at other times, and about how that's probably how lives are, for the most part. Sometimes it feels like I have lived many different lives all rolled up into one existence, and I wonder if anybody else ever feels like that.  Some parts of my life seem almost surreal to me now, as I wander off into old age, almost like they happened to somebody else.  Thinking about the journey, the cracks and crevices, the mountaintops and the blessings.  Interesting thoughts on a cool-ish Tuesday morning, and not sure where they're coming from.

 The Irishman is leaving on Friday morning for the family reunion in Wisconsin. He'll be gone for 4 days.  It'll be a nice break for both of us.  :)  I just got a call reminding me that I am a featured speaker tonight in Alton. Bloody hell--I had forgotten all about it.  (oops). Guess I'd really better get busy now...lol

  OK--yard work--here I come. Hope everyone has a good Tuesday....

Namaste.

Have you ever....

...been driving the road home, and suddenly just lose it?  There was a song playing on the radio that was the song my ex-husband used to sing to me.."you are the woman that I've always dreamed of...I knew it from the start...."  and I just burst out crying.  And I cried for about 15 minutes...for lost love and for broken dreams and for all the things we would never know about each other growing old. I felt like somebody slammed their fist into my solar plexus and it took the wind out of me. And I thought "He has died."  And it opened a big hole in my heart that I thought time and new love had closed.  If he has indeed died, it would be of alcoholism, and no one will bother to ever tell me, I'm afraid. I haven't laid eyes on him in over 16 years.  I did speak to him once, about 10 years ago, and the conversation was so painful that I never did it again. We separated when I got sober, when I was 37 years old, almost 22 years ago.  And for a while there tonight, the pain was as raw as it was then. 

  Do our hearts ever heal when they break down the middle?  Does the yearning ever stop and the wistfulness subside?  

  I have made a good life for myself with a good man.  And that is beside the point.

  I have been having more and more minor psychic experiences again...small de ja vu's  and a sense of someone or something hovering at the edge of my consciousness.  Perhaps this is more of that.  Perhaps not. I am reminded of the part of the story of Daughters of Copper Woman (I think)  where the shimmering cords that connect her to everyone who has ever been part of her life manifest and oh, hell...I cannot think straight right now...it's after 1 AM and I should be in bed. Maybe tomorrow I can finish this or wake up a little more enlightened and sure of what I'm even talking about or remembering.

Maybe. Or maybe not.

Goodnight.