An Invincible Summer - A Woman's Journey

A blogger I really enjoy, Sabine at  Interim Arrangements , posted this the other day and I felt compelled to repost. I’d love to hear what you think. Fintan O'Toole  writes today in  The Irish Times : Fascism doesn’t arise suddenly in an existing democracy. It is not easy to get people to give up their ideas of freedom and civility. You have to do trial runs that, if they are done well, serve two purposes. They get people used to something they may initially recoil from; and they allow you to refine and calibrate. This is what is happening now and we would be fools not to see it. One of the basic tools of fascism is (. . .) the generation of tribal identities, the division of society into mutually exclusive polarities. Fascism does not need a majority – it typically comes to power with about 40 per cent support and then uses control and intimidation to consolidate that power. So it doesn’t matter if most people hate you, as long as your 40 per cent is fanatically committed.

Be happy....  Are happy people happy because the practice the following or does the following just happen because they are happy? Which came first, the chicken or the egg? I've got a few of these babies down pat but others elude me. Happy people: 1.      They believe that they are completely worthy of happiness in life. 2.     They don’t let their circumstances decide their mood or their overall state of happiness. 3.     They are grateful, always and every day, rain or sunshine. 4.     They are extremely generous – they give and help and serve others frequently. 5.     They love life, they accept life and feel in harmony with life. 6.     They are free of judgment, be it themselves or others. 7.     They get curious, rather than angry, when things don’t go their way. 8.     They believe in their own power to make change for the better. 9.     They seek inner peace, solitude and meditation regularly. 10.   They believe human beings are innately good.

Yesterday I was playing ball with the puppy. Well, actually, I was playing donuts. She seems to like donuts better than balls. I’m throwing it and she’s going after it with her legs going in every direction, she lumbers to the spot where the donut is sitting and she pounces on it and then growls like she’s a vicious monster. It’s pretty darn adorable. As we played she got distracted and walked off a bit. I called her and told her get the donut and I swung my arm hard to throw it just as she pounced at my direction.  With a good amount of momentum I knocked her in the nose with my fist. She yelped in pain and I felt terrible. A few seconds later, Sophie ran out from bedroom where she had been sleeping.  She quickly ran over, chest out, and proceeded to attack Scruffy. WTF? Where is her momma instinct? Nope, she was out for blood.....ok, ok that’s a bit dramatic but she was pretty mean. Result: I don’t understand dog packs at all. Scruffy enjoying some pizza and beer.

WORD FOR THE DAY Grant me daily the grace of gratitude, to be thankful for all my many gifts, and so be freed from artificial needs, that I might lead a joyful, simple life. EDWARD HAYS The way to contented happiness is clear to me. Just need to do the work of reminding myself constantly. Stuff will never do it, shopping will not fill it, numbing will not help. When I forget to be grateful, my brain fills with the stuff that scares me. Those thoughts rob me of precious time. Life is short and there is always something to be grateful for.

DISCLAIMER!  Dudes and sqeemish ones, you may want to skip this post.  Yeast. In some cases a wonderful thing. It helps produce the most wonderous breads, beers and wines among other things. There are other times when yeast is kinda sucky. Most you ladies know what I am talking about. I just had a conversation with a young lady who complained about being uncomfortable because of a yeast infection. I, of course, had to do the proverbial 3 miles to school, uphill both ways , in the snow. I told her, “At least it's no longer a damn trip to the doctor as it was in my day. Suffering, knowing exactly what you had, having to wait for a opening, to find a doctor to stick his face where is really doesn’t belong,  only to tell you you have what you already knew you had and then send you on a trip to the pharmacy, waiting endlessly while all you wanted was a warm bath and a chance to scratch in private.” Too graphic?  I know, I know but seriously, at least now at the first sign a ga

Puppy Love! The Boy Scout and I have an addition to the family! This is Scruffy McScrufface (Scruffy for short) and she is a wired haired pointing griffon. These are hunting dogs (which we do not do) and love water (which we cannot wait to take her to). What a joy she has been even though the puppy period can be a little taxing. Sophie is slowly getting used to her and they are becoming, if not friends, amiable companions.

Today I rejoice with the women from Saudi Arabia. They have earned the right to drive a car. While they have can now drive (with the permission of their guardian), the women who are the force behind this change are being prosecuted, maligned and treated poorly. In addition to that women in Saudi Arabia still cannot: Spend time with a male friend   Get a passport or travel  without permission from their “guardian”  (which is a male family member and can even be a small brother) Marry or divorce without permission Open a bank account  Dress how they please  It’s great they can drive but outrage is what comes to mind when I think of their circumstances. Keep fighting sisters. We were once in your shoes. It took bold, brave, daring women to change our situation and it seems you have no shortage of bold, brave, daring women.

Where did they come from These waves and lines and creases Reminding me of time that has passed They weren’t there yesterday, they weren’t How did they get here These splats and splotches of warm brown On a backdrop of creamy white The sun is not your ally my young friends When did it happen As I lift my arm and notice The looseness of the once taut skin How odd to see it in the mirror attached to me Why is it still here My old friends: anger and fear Did I say friends? I meant unwanted companions Of all these things, I wish you gone the most What do I need to do Care for myself, be authentic Stick to the program, forgiveness for all Live and Let Live and One Day at a Time

I must stop reacting. I had a set back the other day. My reaction, once again, overshadowed the negative behavior of someone else. Lord when will I learn? I will learn. I will eventually get there. Little by little, I will learn to quiet the incredible anxiety that explodes out of me in an ugly way. I will, one day, be firm in who I am and where my boundaries lie....when I do, I will quietly enforce them, standing firm in the comfort of knowing when too far is too far FOR ME regardless how someone else views it. Meanwhile, I am allowed to make mistakes. I am a imperfect human being that continues to try to be the best I can be. Despite my errors, I am: a good friend a good listener a pretty good mom a forgiving ex-wife a person with empathy a loving sister a devoted daughter (despite being an orphan) a good business woman a partner who keeps trying I am breathing, easing the anxiety, gaining back my serenity. Serenity is a beautiful thing. I am wishing you peace

My man didn’t get to be a father.  It was his hearts desire but it didn’t turn out that way. He loves kids. Where ever we go, he takes joy in seeing them, interacting with them, making them smile.  Loving their spirits and making major allowances for the unhappy, crying child that I quickly become annoyed at. He loves seeing little girls in tutus and he talks to the boy in Walmart getting a bike for his birthday. He waves at all babies, plays peek a boo with any willing participant and knows that most of them seem to love his deep, rich voice. He tells them he likes their light up shoes or their superhero T-shirt. He reaches out to them at their level. Would he have been a good dad? I don’t really know, for it is baptism by fire. But the other day, while talking to his best friend on the phone, and hearing only one side of the conversation, I think his friend may have said something to the effect of, “You're lucky you don’t have to deal with this” in regards to struggles with

Hey Dad, I was out working on the back patio listening Pandora (which I think you would like) when they played it. That song. How it brings back memories. I see you right now, wearing pressed jeans, one of those mock turtlenecks that was so popular back then. You are lean and tall, so very handsome, with just a trace of that belly that suggests that your diet is quite high in that very specific sugar that you have grown to love and need more and more. I didnt know about that then. I just see you, happy and probably tipsy. I see mom smiling at you, her long dark hair.....I still don’t know how she got it to be so puffy on top. She called it ratting but I never got the hang of it. How that woman loved you. How she needed you, but you couldn’t be that person. We are all so broken pop, doing and saying things we wish we had or did not. I hope you are at peace now. Your choices left much to be desired for us as a family at the time but each of us, except for John, are doing ok. I hop

Things that are hard: Remembering to find joy when you’re feeling afraid. Trusting, trusting when the world doesn’t feel so trustworthy. Watching your kids struggle and having to stand back and let it happen. Not rescuing when it would be so easy to rescue. Ignoring the feeling in my stomach that something isn’t right. Remembering to work my program when I so want to do something else. Things that are easy: Loving. Today, not much else.