Button, button, who's got the...

I cannot believe it has been 3 months since I last posted. Blame it on facebook. I have been sucked in . I do not, for one moment, believe I have any followers left but will use this space for journaling. And just in case some of you are not on Facebook.

So what have I been up to? Nuttin' much. It's been cold in Missouri. Wore the winter coat up through last week, had one week of spring, and now it's cold and rainy again. My craft for this past winter/spring was in the form of buttons. When Sailor Boy's mother died last year, he and his sister gave me her entire button collection. Now, if you know me, you know I love love love buttons, and I was so humbled by the gesture. But as you can imagine, they were the last (or one of the last) thing I was holding onto. I couldn't exactly just send them back since both he and his sister wanted me to have them, but I couldn't exactly keep them.

So I came up with this plan. Fashioned after a wreath made my of my mother's terribly ugly jewelry that my sister made me for Christmas, I came up with the wreath idea. How do you like it? I am so in love with the final outcome.
In the second picture notice the "L" made of shell buttons since his mother's name begins with an "L." (Figure it out yourself.) I had enough buttons to make his sister a wreath and him a smaller version and have some set aside for my collection. It took hours just to wash the buttons from decades of dirt. And soon I will mail the wreaths to Florida and DC so they can have these mementos of their mother. I know, I am crazy for giving them away, but I just couldn't keep them. And I did put some back for my own personal collection.

Valentine's Day was lovely. Went to KC to go dancing. Stayed in a lovely hotel that made Las Vegas look like a joke. Got some fancy unmentionables from Vicky Secrets. March found me in Springfield at another blues concert. April saw the Mizzou Tigers getting into the Elite Eight NCAA basketball tournament beating Cornell, Marq uette, and Memphis before losing to UConn. Columbia was pretty damn excited. And our coach is sticking around till 2016. It's been fun. Now it's baseball season. Help me!

Tried Soft Paws on the kitty. She does not like them. I glue them on. She chews them off. I glue them on. She glues them off. Well, you get the picture. I thought since she is the sweetest cat in the world that she would tolerate them, but I was wrong. Lovely Shephard suggested I tried a sizzle rope scratching post, but she is ignoring it. As for scratching my brand new couch, let's just say she'd better get a lawyer. I don't want to declaw the little kitty, but I might have to. I have heard they do it by laser now so it's not as cruel. What do you think?

April was still chilly, but I got to KC again and saw my old sex ed buddies on the Plaza before spending the evening dancing. I'm a wild woman. Ha! I am being treated beautifully by a wonderful gentleman we'll call Blues Man. Great cook, makes me breakfast in bed, takes me dancing, loves my cat, and puts down the toilet seat.

Saw the last episode of ER which I have not missed in all 15 years. And am mourning the loss of Bea Arthur. As you may remember, I spend the summer on the couch sobbing over every Lifetime movie and laughing over hours of Golden Girls. I knew I had hit rock bottom when I watched a 4-hr marathon in memory of Estelle Getty. But damn it, those ladies kept me going this summer and now I mourn the loss of Dorothy Zbornak. I would do well to model my life after these 4 wonderful women.


Our choir's Broadway production in March was a big hit. Can't Help Lovin' Dat Man, Oklahoma, Climb Every Mountain. Every cheesy Broadway number out there. With choreography. YIKES! Old people singing AND dancing. And now, we are is putting on the finishing touches for our concert of Mozart's Requiem next week. One daughter, 2 sisters, and Blue Man are coming (along with 4 other friends). I have a posse!

Going to Bonnie Raitt next week for Blues Man's birthday. Life is good.

Happy Groundhog Day

Rise and shine, Campers. And don't forget your booties cuz it's cold out there.

I have been very negligent of ye ole' blog. Went an entire month without nary a "howdy do" on this thing, and I apologize to the 2 or 3 fan club members who still read my blog. I am well. If it makes you feel any better, I have yet to send out my Christmas cards with my annual letter. I just don't know how to sum up my year. Perhaps I will date it Groundhog Day. Or perhaps it will be a Lenten missive?

The man I have been keeping company with knew how hard New Year's Eve would be for me so we had a quiet evening at home for dinner and then he took me to KC for a night of music and dancing later that weekend. Being with someone right now scares me for I fear my heart is either frozen or encased in plexi-glass, but I have been lucky to find this fine man who is kind and giving and loving beyond my wildest imagination. We do not share the same taste in music, but I am trying to expand my tastes. The choir I am in will be doing a Night on Broadway in March and Mozart's Requiem in May, and I guess he will be expanding his tastes as well.

Mabel (Daughter #1) fainted off the treadmill a couple of weekends ago and hit her head. Needed some staples in the back of her head, and we had to talk her into taking the day off work. Telling her she needed to rest from a concussion didn't convince her. Telling her needed the time to grade papers that she lost while being in the ER all Saturday didn't convince her. But reminding her that she couldn't wash her hair for 48 hrs and would have to teach with dirty hair made her realize that she couldn't teach that way. In the end, she took the Monday afterwards off, called in "ugly," and I came over to wash her hair carefully and not touch the staples. If you know my daughter, she never handled Q-tips in her ear well so nurse after nurse in the ER reminded her that she would need an epidural if she ever gave birth! He b/f got a kick out of that and documented the day with photos on her iPhone. It was determined that she has low blood pressure and she is fine with another war story for the year.

Barack on! Was the inauguration a thing of beauty?? I was so moved and so lucky to be able to watch as much of it as I did during the day. Working at a university in the College of Education, I was able to watch much of it on the internet and then the swearing in on tv in the dean's office. What a momentous occasion. I sure wish my mother had lived long enough to see this day. I have added The Rev. Gene Robinson's prayer that did not get much, if any, air time. Poetry.

"O God of our many understandings, we pray that you will bless us with tears - tears for a world in which over a billion people exist on less than a dollar a day, where young women in many lands are beaten and raped for wanting an education, and thousands die daily from malnutrition, malaria, and AIDS.

Bless this nation with anger - anger at discrimination, at home and abroad, against refugees and immigrants, women, people of color, gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender people.

Bless us with discomfort at the easy, simplistic answers we've preferred to hear from our politicians, instead of the truth about ourselves and our world, which we need to face if we are going to rise to the challenges of the future.

Bless us with patience and the knowledge that none of what ails us will be fixed anytime soon, and the understanding that our new president is a human being, not a messiah.

Bless us with humility, open to understanding that our own needs as a nation must always be balanced with those of the world.

Bless us with freedom from mere tolerance, replacing it with a genuine respect and warm embrace of our differences.

Bless us with compassion and generosity, remembering that every religion's God judges us by the way we care for the most vulnerable.

And God, we give you thanks for your child, Barack, as he assumes the office of President of the United States.

Give him wisdom beyond his years, inspire him with President Lincoln's reconciling leadership style, President Kennedy's ability to enlist our best efforts, and Dr. King's dream of a nation for all people. Give him a quiet heart, for our ship of state needs a steady, calm
captain.

Give him stirring words; We will need to be inspired and motivated to make the personal and common sacrifices necessary to facing the challenges ahead.

Make him color-blind, reminding him of his own words that under his leadership, there will be neither red nor blue states, but the United States.

Help him remember his own oppression as a minority, drawing on that experience of discrimination, that he might seek to change the lives of those who are still its victims.

Give him strength to find family time and privacy, and help him remember that even though he is president, a father only gets one shot at his daughters' childhoods.

And please, God, keep him safe. We know we ask too much of our presidents, and we're asking far too much of this one. We implore you, O good and great God, to keep him safe. Hold him in the palm of your hand, that he might do the work we have called him to do, that he might find
joy in this impossible calling, and that in the end, he might lead us as a nation to a place of integrity, prosperity, and peace. Amen."

It has been cold in Missouri and even colder when I went to Chicago last weekend to visit my friend Bruce and run around in 4-degree temps. I even got to meet a blog friend for breakfast. which was so much fun. Those who do not blog cannot understand how wonderful it is to meet people from all over the world through this and then get to meet them personally. What a joy!

We didn't get the snow St. Louis got last week so life is cold but tolerable in mid-Missouri.

Happy Blogiversary

Barely getting there under the wire, but I was a bit busy tonight trapped ... I mean, enjoying The Alamo Bowl that Mizzou finally won in overtime. I know I'm not good at math, but how can 4 15-minute quarters turn into FOUR AND A HALF HOURS.

Anyway, today is my 4th blogiversary. And if you've been a follower from the beginning (Howdy Leesa and Pam), you know that I started my blog on my 25th wedding anniversary. The evening of. Now fast forward 4 years, and it should come as no shock that I am no longer married. Within 18 months of starting this blog and meeting two bloggers, I drove off from Colorado and visited Leesa in Montana. All my non-blog friends were afraid I was going to be bludgeoned to death, but it didn't happened. I think I have lifelong friends.

Since then, I have gone through a lot in my "old" age. Job change after job change (after a major lay-off in '03), a kid's high school graduation, a kid's college graduation, an empty nest, separation and divorce, a major move 2 hours away, taught sex ed to teens, lost 60lbs, the love of a lifetime, turned 50, learned to swim, went sailing on the Chesapeake, sold a house in what we thought was the worst housing market until recently, the loss of that aforementioned love, quitting my job, moving back to St. Louis, a breakdown, a move back, a new job, a new place, joined a choir, got a cat, and enjoyed a new life. and you've been there through it all or at least most of it or just some of it if you're a new reader.

I have met 4 bloggers personally, talked to several, met bloggers on both sides of the US and in the UK, been grateful at every step of the way for your friendship. I even have secret blog readers who never reveal themselves, but that's ok. I never figured out how to tell who was reading my blog, but I know it's available to all. I try not to censor too much, but I don't reveal everything either. If we talk or IM, you know far more about me. I don't blog often these days, but I am still here erratically. I still love reading your blogs and IMing with you. And I have to say I have met some of the most wonderful people through this blog.

Happy 4th blogiversary to me. Love you all.

Gobble, gobble

Before I begin my rant, let me wish you a Happy Turkey Day. For my foreign readers, look up the origin here.

Last week was my daughter's play where she was the stage manager. It was excellent, and I was so proud of her (especially when the director passed me during the intermission and whispered as she pointed to my daughter, "She has been so wonderful, as usual").

But here are my rants: If you're going to pull out in front of me as I'm trying to go the theater, do not drive 20 mph down the street and 10 mph through campus. And if you sit next to me, stop fidgeting and cracking your knuckles even if your girlfriend did drag you to the theater. Guess I have to thank you for not texting throughout the production. I wanted to attend the Sunday matinee, but my ex didn't want to be in the same zip code with me so I was forced to go to the Saturday evening production. I'm glad I forced myself to go out at night. If you ever get a chance to go see "The Pillowman," go. Fabulous play!

I am at my sister's for Thanksgiving and it's difficult for 2 reasons. One, this is where I came when I crashed this summer so it's sort of like returning to the insane asylum. I mean, my sister is wonderful, but it's just friggin' weird to be back here. I don't remember much (like where I drove or where she keeps things) so I was obviously on survival mode. Much like my high school years when I realized I couldn't remember anyone at my 10-yr reunion. And the second reason it's difficult is Sailor Boy was in town last Thanksgiving and we spent all Wednesday before T'giving with my sister and daughter, and then when they left us alone, we spent a romantic evening together in front of the fire. It was a lovely day together. I just gotta get through the holidays. And to that... I have a new rule: Your first Christmas after having your heart broken by a sailor, you shouldn't have to sing "I Saw Three Ships Come Sailing In" for a holiday concert! Oh well, I will be fine, but of all the songs to pick.... grrrrrr!

Now you have a wonderful Turkey Day!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I know just how this turkey feels!!!





May your stuffing be tasty
May your turkey plump,
May your potatoes and gravy
Have never a lump.
May your yams be delicious
And your pies take the prize,
And may your Thanksgiving dinner stay off your thighs!

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

Meet Jewel...

I'm not as bad as Leesa and Amy. I just got one cat. One 1-yr-old cat. She was a stray who had kittens in my daughter's house this summer, and the neighbor started feeding her but kept her outside. And had her fixed and got her shots and taken care of for fleas. So she really was a free cat. Isn't she beautiful?

Within minutes of coming into my house (after weeks of deciding if I could make an outdoor cat stay indoors), she was in my lap purring loudly, on her back, belly up, taking a nap. Never saw a cat do that. So well adapted to her surroundings so quickly. She is the sweetest cat I have ever met. Her purr is very loud, and yet her purr is demure. She even slept with me from the first night at the bottom of the bed on the sheet I provided. I have become one of those cat ladies who talks to her cat. I promise to keep the posts about her to a minimum. Oh, who am I kidding???

Yes, I am allergic, but I know how to manage things as an adult. (Don't put my face in their fur would be the first step.) She snuzzles and follows me around the house in the morning when I get ready for work. She has no ambition to run away which I feared she would since she has never lived indoors. I really believe she is relieved not to have to fight the street traffic any more.

And she used the kitty litter box immediately.

And because she is the sweetest cat I have ever met, I have named her after my favorite teacher who was the sweetest person I ever knew. Mrs. Helen Jewel Brakke. So I have named my new kitty Jewel. Not like the gem stone Jewel, but after Mrs. Brakke.

The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea
In a beautiful pea green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
'O lovely Pussy! O Pussy my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are,
You are, you are!
What a beautiful Pussy you are!'

Edward Lear
(1812-1888)

Could this be considered an anniversary?

2 years ago today I packed up my things, or what could fit in my car and my sister's car, and left. I had told my husband the month before that it was over. After 26 years of marriage, it was over. And as he sat in shock (although I reminded him that he couldn't possibly be shocked, really), I went about packing up and moving on. If you've been a "fan," you know I took a road trip to Montana for a week with a blogger friend watching the house and pets of another blogger friend. Somehow they knew back in June that I needed something to cling to, something to put some umph in my life. Little did they know and little did I know that it was more than just a road trip to Montana.


Last month my dear Pam who, by marriage, has the same last name as I do so we consider ourselves sisters not only by name but by a common bond that you gain from reading blogs and then driving 15 hrs one way and spending a week in the mountains of Montana. She and her lovely husband, 4 dogs, and 3 cats moved across the country to Vermont and took the time to stop in Missouri to see me. I sure hope you notice that together we have lost enough weight to make another adult, and damn, we look good. A lot has happened in 2 years, but we promise not to let so much time pass before we see each other again. That means I will be visiting Vermont one day since she has already seen Missouri. Now say a special prayer for her Gracie since she (and Hank) got hit by a car the other day. One broken leg and one amputated leg later and Gracie is home to recuperate but could use the good positive thoughts.

So how do I feel 2 years after walking out? I am in my own place with my own couch and my own mattress (since my ex never returned my mattress as deigned by the divorce decree) and a sea 'o boxes. There I go with the water images! As of last weekend, I started unpacking some of those boxes. I have been living as a nomad for 2 years now and finally came to grips with questions such as "Do I belong here?" "Will I be staying?" "Where is my home?" "Do I deserve to be happy?" I am learning to live in my own skin and call this place home. I think I've come a long way, esp since this summer when you saw me at my very worst.

I am very fortunate to have a job at the university, and while it may not be challenging per se, I am having to learn a lot of new things which does challenge me. I have come to the conclusion that while I hate numbers and accounting, I am so regretful that I didn't or, rather, couldn't have majored in something more profitable. I resent that the numbers people in the world make all the money while those of us who know the placement of a comma and an apostrophe are swept by the wayside. But as much training as I have undergone in that area, I have discovered that not only do I not have the brains for accounting (vouchers, POs, MoCodes), I also DON'T CARE. I hear Charlie Brown's teacher every time they open their mouths to explain another procedure. God, accountants are boring. (Sorry if I have offended anyone out there.) I love my new place and am so grateful for those friends who have helped me move and set up the place, but I can barely afford it along with my car payment and sit still so nothing major happens. (I haven't decided whether to buy or rent in the future with my share of the equity.) But it's a start. My new cell phone has a pedometer, and I am fascinated by how many steps I can take on purpose and accidentally. I am trying to get 2 to 3 miles in a day walking around campus. After all, I work on one of most beautiful campuses anywhere. I have joined a choir with one performance already done and another coming up next month. This was something I had promised myself last year when I moved here but never did it because I never wanted to put roots down here if I was going to move soon.

Well, we all know that didn't happen and isn't going to happen. And I am fine with that. Matter of fact, I am glad I am here. I have volunteered for Planned Parenthood (my old employer). I am making new friends. I am enjoying being single. It's been 2 long years or I can't believe it's gone so quickly. Thanks for coming along for the ride.

One to Two Degrees of Separation

I have been in town 5 weeks and at my new job for 4, and I promise to update you on the progress. I will even tell you about the incredible luck I experienced on moving day. And I promise, Sister, to post about “where were you 2 years ago?” But for today, I would like to add another entry to 6 degrees of separation.

when I saw her I have had a many instances of 6 degrees of separation, but lately it’s been eerie. When I gave my new landlady my rent deposit, we started up a conversation about Greek life at Mizzou when I saw her Tri Delt certificate on the wall. I told her I was not Greek but that my daughter was a Chi O. I said, “I am sure your parents felt you were safer by being in a sorority” when I guessed she was older than I was. She said, “When my parents dropped me off at college from Hannibal…” and I said, as I catch myself saying a lot, “I only know one person from Hannibal…” When I mentioned the name of my godmother, she said, “Not only did we go to the same high school, we graduated the same year and will have our 50th high school reunion next month.” I had no idea my godmother was 68. Later, I was telling my sister and her best friend this story, and the friend said, “I only know one person…” and we found out that she taught with the woman whose basement I lived in last year…forty years ago. (She taught with her forty years ago. I did not live in this woman's basement forty years ago.)

The other day at work I started small talk with a student and couldn’t ask her “So what high school did you go to?” when I found out she was from my hometown. (It’s a St. Louis thing.) I asked her her last name, and it did not ring a bell so I asked for her mother’s maiden name which did ring a bell. I said, “Your mother wouldn’t happen to have a brother named Alan, would she?” She said, “Yes, that’s my uncle.” I said, “Well, your uncle was my mother’s landlord.” When I told her to tell her uncle that she met this woman’s daughter, she said, “I met her when I was a little girl.” (You can’t forget my mother nor her name.) Today I was chit-chatting with a co-worker and asked “So where did you go to high school?” (She was from St. Louis.) When she said, “Hazelwood East,” we discovered I knew her yearbook teacher from my days as a yearbook advisor from the early 80s.

But this last one today almost made me giggle out loud. I walk at lunch to keep the fat monster away. Today there was a vendor fair at the Union so I hiked over there knowing there would be freebies. I’m all about the freebie, so as I walked around the vendor tables, I recognized the Office Max rep. I caught his eye and started smiling at him, and he finally said, “Are you trying to make me crack up?” So I walked around until he was finished with his sales pitch before coming back and having a wonderful conversation. Not only did I know the Office Max sales rep. *I slept with the Office Max sales rep. Is that ONE degree of separation?



*Oh, don’t get your panties in a twist. This was many many many many years ago.