Rarely Bored

Yawn. What Bores You?”  This was yesterday’s prompt but I left the computer early yesterday and like this better than todays: “What’s the longest time you’ve ever been away from your favourite person”   Ha!

I rarely ever get bored but I did yell out “This is boring!” trying to watch a movie called “A Most Wanted Man”. I kept running it back because I wasn’t paying attention to the dialogue then realized, it’s not me….. this is boring.

That happened again when I was watching Billions. Every time they started talking about stocks and numbers my mind would go elsewhere. But  I stuck with it because I like Paul Giamatti.  I found you don’t really have to pay attention to the numbers so it’s OK, the story line looks good.

Chit Chat bores the hell out of me. I don’t like small talk or chatting on the phone. (At least on the phone I can roll my eyes.) The answering machine gets anything important. Texting is so much better than talking. Say what you’ve got to say and no more than necessary, please.

I have a part-time job and with it being January I’m only getting 2 or 3 shifts a week but that’s perfect. I always have things to do here; things I have to do and things I want to do.  I do housework for a couple of hours then relax and/or walk (if I’m not working of course) in the afternoon.

My ex-husband used to say “You sure can entertain yourself”.  So true! My mom used to say, “Learn to enjoy your own company”.   Hmmm. May be some mixed messages there but it still worked out well for me.  I live alone and enjoy doing whatever I want… within my work schedule and budget.

I maintain and add to my landscaping in the spring and summer. In the Fall I put away firewood that I have delivered in September. January to March I work on jigsaw puzzles to get the afternoon sun as it comes back up. Getting that sun is crucial to mental health, I’m taking Vit. D now and trying to catch any afternoon rays which have been few and weak.

Today is sunny and I’m working 3:00 to 9:00. I’ll do some vacuuming (now that I can see how bad it is), tidy up, bring in firewood and maybe do a few pieces of the puzzle before going into work.

Tomorrow is going to be sunny and I’m not working. Oh, boy! Walk on the trail behind my house, work on the puzzle in the afternoon…… ah, life is good.

its all in the organization
its all in the organization




SoCS; miss


I miss Laura L. There is a group of bloggers out there that followed WTFAIOA by Laura L. through her trials and tribulations. When I first came upon her blog she was living in a trailer in Kentucky then moved to a basement of a person she didn’t know to look for a job in Vermont. We were all so happy when she got a job then an apartment but soon it all turned bad. Recently she wrote her last post with “my life has gotten so much worse. I’m closing the blog”

What happened? Where is she? I worry about her! Are you reading  this Laura- I know that’s not your name? We miss you!

How many Lauras are out there leading lives of quiet desperation?

I have a friend down the road who is living  in a trailer with no plumbing. She left her abusive mate and was offered the place by friends who own the trailer park. They’ve been grumbling about her water use and daily shower from their house so she’s been coming here for a shower and fill a water container every couple of days to buffer her water usage there.

Yesterday she left me fifty cents.

She has a very old dog; a boxer. He drools a lot and wants to get on my couch. She cooks him dinner, which is the main reason I don’t want her to stay here, plus she smokes cigarettes.  Don’t worry; she doesn’t want to stay here either.  They needs her own space.

I remember how crazy I was when my marriage broke up and I had no place, no job, no life.  The fear, anxiety and grief are debilitating.

It’s too bad other people’s misfortunes are the best reminders that our lives are good. I don’t feel so bad about going into work tonight, tomorrow and Monday. Of course there are moments of anxiety and the little inner groan of ‘I don’t wanna go to work’ but all in all, I’m lucky to have this job and home and the health to keep it all together.

And I live in peace.

My heart goes out to all the people who struggle this holiday season. When you see them, smile at them, show them they matter. That can mean so much to a person who is down and hurt.



Sometimes I Remember

When we have problems, over-worked, poor health, lack of love, the usual things that keep us from happiness, we wonder why we have to live through this when others seem to have it so good. They aren’t better people or have worked any harder…… they just have it way better.

Sometimes at work I feel so bad for myself: that I’m working so hard at this age, for minimum wage, and tolerating being spoken down to. At night, with a big mop and bucket, I could sit down and cry. This certainly wasn’t how I planned on living my later years.

Then I see the homeless, the handicapped, those unable to work or have a home for whatever reason, scorned and treated like garbage.

The range of ‘bad’ to ‘good’ is so vast, I’m just treading mediocrity. At least I have a job, a home and pretty good health for 62.

Today I have the grace, space and time to contemplate life as I do dishes, (no dishwasher) and I remembered something, it hits me every once in a while when I have to space to think, this IS why we are here.  These troubles, this discomfort is exactly why we are struggling to survive on this Earth.

We, as souls, wanted to come here to feel; loving, crying, eating, being a part of nature, the terrible beauty that this planet is. To experience all this is an awesome task.

In the book of Sophia, from the Dead Sea Scrolls, it says angels bow before humans because we are souls that come down to the dregs and make it out again.

I wonder how my life turned out this way but it doesn’t matter. It DID turn out this way. And for whatever reason, I’m meant to live here alone then go into work and deal with unpleasant people. It’s HOW I deal with it that matters.  These people are meant to know me, too, for whatever reason. The way I treat them in return is so important; it can impact both our lives.

We could let days pass by worrying about things that will never happen, wishing our lives to be so different and miss the reason for our being here and experiencing this.

It’s not easy and it’s not always fair. (It just seems unfair because we can’t see the bigger picture.) We think we are leading this mundane, stupid life and can’t see the miracle that it is, right here, right now.

After we die and see “WHY” we will slap ourselves on our foreheads for not seeing the trees in our forest. Except we won’t have a forehead or hands……. but we will want them again…… and want to try to get it right this time.

“Fairy Tales Can Come True…

It can happen to you when you’re Young At Heart”

Today’s Prompt is; And they lived happily ever after.” Think about this line for a few minutes. Are you living happily ever after? If not, what will it take for you to get there?

Come on. Fairy Tales end in “……happily ever after” when they get married. Yeah….. that was the big goal in the olden days: get married. Look good, be witty but compliant and you’ll get a good husband. And live happily ever after.


I got married and stay married for 28 years before I finally realized I couldn’t be happy with him (happiness was not allowed) and had to make a go of ‘being happy’ on my own. I am happier than I was but I could use a lot more happiness in my life.

Love makes people happy…. let’s face it. When it comes down to it that’s what we all want: Love.

It doesn’t have to be Prince Charming: it can be family or friends or an altruistic endeavor for humanity. It can be a deep spiritual love although, with that, some human companionship is missed. Even people who find a great love in God or Jesus wish they had another person to share that love with.

I have love of family. Yesterday I was at the beach with my sister, niece, nephew and their kids. I felt very loved and happy to be a part of them. It was my grandniece’s 7th birthday and she wanted to go the beach so they took her and her sister out of school and came to Grand Bend. My niece and her 2 1/2 year-old came, too. It raised my spirits from around my ankles up to my head. I’m so lucky to have them.

(I had an 8:00 to 1:00 shift in the bakery.  They all met at 1:30 just down the road from where I work. With all the Mercury in retrograde crap that’s going down  I can’t believe I got the right shift for it!)

At 62 years old I don’t expect to live happily ever after. Life just isn’t like that…. ever…… to anyone.

I still would really like to meet Prince Charming: I’m young at heart.  Someone who thinks I’m just wonderful and wants to make me happy by doing home renovations and taking me to restaurants.

But until I meet someone with those qualifications; I can be happy enough by myself.


In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Happily Ever After.”

My Job

Tell us about a time when everything actually turned out exactly as you’d hoped.

Landing this job I have now was a big, lucky break for me. Being 60 years old and having worked with my ex-husband at our apiary business for 25 years, not too many places I applied to would even interview me. Almost out of money, my anxiety was mounting, I was afraid and my confidence was zero. I didn’t even feel myself to be ’employable’.

I had been thinking about and looking into taking cake decorating when I saw an ad on-line for cake decorator at a fairly near-by grocery store saying “Will train”. It came out on the day of a huge snow storm so there was no way I could make the drive but it had a faxing address. My computer doesn’t fax. I happened to be e-mailing a friend that day who lives in Vancouver and told her my problem. She said she had a fax modem so I could send her my resume with a cover letter. We did some back and forth, finding the right file formats and she sent it out hours after I saw the ad.

I stood at the window and looked out at snow for long periods of time with the mantra “Please, please, please……” running through my head.

The storm ended on a Saturday night, the roads were cleared and my driveway plowed out Sunday.  Early Monday morning I drove to Grand Bend with another resume and jangling nerves. I wanted it so bad; I was very nervous.

My interviewer, who is now my boss, is a positive, cheery go-getter. She liked me and called me a firecracker!  Little did she know my energy was from 3 coffees and extreme nervousness. That was also lucky because she never did receive my fax.

I got the job!  Not only did I get the job but a few months later they decided to train me on cash, also. Now I have two jobs in the same store which is great. Two completely different jobs and different co-workers. On cash, I can wear my hair down and nice earrings and flirt with retired men. In the bakery I wear a hair-net and baseball hat which makes me magically invisible! When I work at night, no one even sees me! I dance, I fart, sing along to the ‘easy-listening’ music. It’s all just cleaning at night and I know I do that well; I have plenty of experience cleaning.

Yes, much as I would love to be retired, this job was my lucky break! Today I have the day off, relaxed and worry-free; who wouldn’t want that? I’ve earned it and that feels awesome!

And what about cake decorating? Well, the main person still does 80% of it and I get very little practice. I watched her for a couple of months then one day my bakery boss said, “you should be able to write on cakes by now”. That was my training. Mostly I make the regular cakes, such as Chocolate Fudge cake, Snickers Bar cake, and cream pies. ‘Yeah, it’s a tough job but somebodies got to do it.’

“All It’s Cracked Up to Be.”


The prompt today asks us to choose one; write a blog or read other blogs.  Write.  I didn’t even know what a blog was before I started. When I found out I could just write and post for free, I jumped right in.

First of all, I just like writing but I could never commit the time and attention to one thing. A blog is great for writers with Attention Deficit Disorder.

It’s the perfect forum for talking about stuff I don’t want to bore people with on Facebook.  My 28-year marriage broke up 7 or 8 years ago and I’ve been on my own ever since. I still smart from the wounds every once in a while. It’s a scar that re-opens in stressful times. Living alone, I need to talk about it. It really helps to write it out and find others in similar predicaments. It’s like getting on top of a hill and yelling; “yoo hoo! I made it here!”

But I would sure miss the others…. I’d still be alone!  No others yelling “yoo hoo, I’m over here… you’re not alone!”  Now there are new friends: I would wonder how their lives were going.

Especially Laura L. from ‘wtf am I on about now?’.  I worry about her when she doesn’t write!   https://wtfaioa.wordpress.com/about/

I love Helen’s sharp wit and  unique perceptions.   https://helenmeikle.wordpress.com/about-2/

or Elle’s support and light-hearted look on life. https://knowleselle.wordpress.com/

When the Daily Prompt fell from grace I found this prompt for more inspiration. I don’t care if a lot of people won’t see my post: I only have about 65 followers and I suspect only a few of them actually read me. I’m writing for myself; maybe some of you will use it, too; http://theywalkthenight.wordpress.com/

There’s a good chance I wouldn’t blog for long if it was a world empty of other bloggers. Then it would just be an on-line journal.


In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Morton’s Fork.”

Early Morning Anxiety

This is the reason I don’t like working in the winter. I’m supposed to start today at 8:00 a.m. which I hate doing even in the summer. Winter is just too hard.

We had snow all afternoon and night yesterday and now it’s blowing around. This was on Facebook this morning:

Lambton Shores Road Conditions

Plows are out but honestly you can’t tell after they have gone by as it is snowing and blowing so much. Visibility in Forest is terrible… Hate to think of what it is like outside of town. Stay home if you don’t have to go out!

I don’t know how much snow is on my car and driveway because its pitch black outside.  The sun isn’t rising until 7:15 which is the time I would have to leave to drive in this crazy weather.

So I’m going to be late. I’m waiting until there’s some light before I go outside and start sweeping snow.  I might even call in at 8:00 and tell them I’m not leaving for an hour or two.

What’s even worse is that I’m on 8:00 to 4:00. That’s an 8 hour day which is too long for me.  When it’s an 8 hour shift you have to punch out for an hour lunch. What a waste of time. The lunch room is so freaking cold you have to sit on your coat so the vinyl chair doesn’t suck all the body heat out your ass. I’ll have to go out and shop to kill some time when I will be dying to go home.

I’m up drinking coffee and giving myself lots of time to clear snow.

I don’t wanna go!!!

I might not.

Cold and Mad/ The Cost of Staying Warm


Its happened again: I’m out of propane. It’s partly my own fault for not ordering sooner.  Friday it was just above 10% so I decided to phone Monday morning. But then it got bitterly cold. I used it up just keeping it at 18 C at night and while I’m at work. By Monday morning it was on ‘refill’. I phoned at 8:00 a.m. She said it would come within 5 working days. (Special delivery costs a lot)Today is Wednesday. They might not even come today.

I hate McRobert Fuels. I try hard not to hate them because it’s such a destructive, negative emotion but I can’t help it. Even though its a rude, heartless woman on the phone and e-mail, this is how I picture McRobert.

mr. Mcroberts

Last year was an extra cold, long winter; I ran up a bill that took me all summer to pay off. Consequently, they put me on a ‘pay first’ list so I have to phone in and put it on my credit card to get a tank of propane. Putting it on my credit card means putting off paying because I don’t have and extra $275 lying around.

I’m blaming my ex today, too.  He phoned in October, (out of the blue, after about 3 years of no contact)  and offered to help me with firewood. Order some slab wood, he said, he’d pay for it, bring me some firewood and take some slab wood home. That’s end pieces and slabs left over from a local sawmill. The smaller pieces help get a hotter fire.  A load of slab-wood is also $275 and it was supposed to be delivered a month ago.  Now I need regular ‘body’ firewood; cut and split logs. That’s $325.

If I got all I need now that would be $875. Mind you, some of that wood will take me into next winter.

When wood is delivered they back down the driveway and dump it at the end. If I order firewood and put out $325, the slab wood is sure to arrive. That means I won’t have enough money and my driveway will be entirely filled with dumped wood.  If I’d known the slab-wood was going to take so long I could’ve ordered body wood weeks ago when there was no snow!  Ggrrrr, I’m mad today!

Last  night I had two baseboard electric heaters going; one in the kitchen and one in the bathroom. I loaded up the wood stove before I went to bed. The thought of a house fire was on my mind. Thank God for my electric blanket! Couldn’t even use that room without it.


It was 14 C when I got up this morning. (Sorry, Americans, can’t remember ‘F‘ but it’s F‘ing cold) Turned up the baseboard heaters, turned on a couple more portable electric  heaters and got the woodstove going again. My Hydro bill (that’s what we called electricity here) is going to be sky high.

Right now I’m in my computer nook, far from my woodstove. I have a noisy radiant heater (loud fan) so I can’t listen for the “beep, beep, beep” of that propane truck backing down. Its all I want to hear right now.

I have to work tonight 5:00 to 9:00 and I really need a shower. It’s noon and I’ve got it up to 18 C. That’s the low temperature I keep the thermostat at. I’ve just got it up to how cold I keep it at night. Too cold to shower!

It reminds me of when you are driving and have to pee. All you can think about is somewhere to pee. I just want to see that damn propane truck backing down my driveway!


I apologize if there are any mistakes but I want to go back to my warm living room and look longingly out the window.


Update: They arrived at 2:10, Yay!  I already had a shower because I couldn’t stand myself and they arrived just as I was drying by the wood stove.

I’m so relieved; I have time for a power nap before I have to get ready for work. I’m going to celebrate by setting the thermostat so it’s warm when I get home from work at 9:30 tonight.  OOooo, decadent!


A Life-changing Year of Loss

Hard to believe it was nine years ago; the year I lost everything that held my life together; everything I identified myself with just wiped away, smashed to smithereens.

It was a bad marriage and getting worse. For twenty-eight years I endured verbal and emotional abuse not realizing I was being abused because he didn’t hit me. But he broke my spirit. I was dead inside and had given up hope for any happiness.

My mom was bed-ridden with multiple sclerosis and lived in a small farmhouse with her second husband, not my dad. My father died of a heart attack years before and she had remarried. Going to stay there was not an option; let’s just say home was better than there.

My sister had found the love of her life and moved to London, England. So I really felt I had nowhere to go.

My husband and I had a business together, keeping bees and selling our honey and beeswax products. I had worked at building this business for 25 years; out of the job market and aging, quickly. I didn’t feel I had the strength or ability to start over. I was beaten down.

The only love I got was from my dog, Betty.  Just writing that makes me start to cry. She was such a loving comfort. If I could hug any of them right now it would be Betty. She was the first to die.  Both my husband and I were grief-stricken but he didn’t turn to me; he withdrew even further into his hard, cold prison of misery.

A few months later, my mother passed away. She had lived with MS most of her life, it was a gradual decline. Her husband went above and beyond looking after her needs… and demands! He dedicated his life to making her life better and was proud of how well he cared for her. Now her organs were starting to break down and she ended up on life support. The hospital she was in was a four and half hour drive. My husband was mean and uncaring so I drove the truck down to Windsor by myself, meeting my sister who had to drive 3 hours from another direction.  The final decision to take her off life support had to come from her husband, Earl.  He couldn’t do it. He wanted them to give her ‘immune boosters’. We had to go home, back to work. I could hardly think, I knew for sure my mom did not want this.

My sister and I went back after a few days to beg Earl to let her go. He still said ‘no’ but we stayed in the waiting room hoping she would go on her own. We sat through the night in the cold, vinyl waiting room, taking turns sitting with mom.

In the morning we had a family conference with Earl and he finally agreed. It only took a half an hour and she was finally freed from her cage.

Back at home I was going through the motions but was so depressed. The worse I got, the madder my husband got. “You can’t beat a dead horse” was my answer to his constant yelling.

One day he couldn’t take anymore of me. He yelled at me to pack my bags he was taking me to my sister’s and dropping me off. He couldn’t stand me, I was a parasite, being with me was like being in a swarm of black flies. This is what he yelled at me all the way to my sisters. He dropped off my suit cases and drove away.

My sister had returned to Canada because the love of her life had also died. That same year he developed a brain tumour and died within months. They had bought a cottage here to spend summers in and she was living in it.

And now I was living in her guest room. We were both still stunned, saying “What happened?” and “Now what?”

Looking back now, I know it had to happen. I needed to be kicked out of that miserable life because I didn’t have the strength to do it on my own.

I still feel the loss; I wish he had been the husband I thought I married. I didn’t have children so my life can get very lonely. I try to forgive him but there’s still a part of me that resents him for destroying all my dreams and hopes for the future. I think about what life could be like if only he was nice and loving. But he isn’t. I was in love with someone I hoped he’d be.

Remember the Etch-a-sketch?  That was my life that year. Turned upside down, given a good shake and a blank screen to write my new life on.


We are shaped by our experiences and what better way to write than to relive some of our experiences. Good or bad, they will always be a part of us.





My Electric Blanket, My Love.

Today I have the chance to tell you how much I love you, Electric Blanket. I don’t have a name for you: my love transcends the need for labels. Every night you bring me such pleasure and comfort, my love is renewed.

I remember the days when I would get into a cold bed and curl up in fetal position in my flannelette nightgown, bringing my legs down bit by bit as I slowly warmed it. If I was lucky my husband would go to bed before me and I could cleave to his heat while he shrieked at the ice-cold feet walking on his legs.

But you, you my love, gently heat the whole bed. The pleasure of getting into bed and stretching out in a warm cloud; my cold feet reaching into your broad foot, where it’s even warmer. I always think; “The richest person couldn’t be more comfortable than this!”

I know you must miss our dear friend, Egyptian Cotton Sheet, as much as I do. Oh, we were a trio….  No one, no sheet will ever be as soft as her. Alas, I had to give up on trying to sew rips closed; she finally disintegrated beyond use. I was forced by financial circumstances to buy sheets with less thread count from WalMart; it was a rough adjustment.

But I had you, you dear blanket, to sooth and comfort me, to take me into the basking glow of your EMF, and soon I got used to the starchy newness of cheap sheets.

We both know you are past your peak will also be replaced soon. I have to turn you on an hour before I go to bed as your strength is diminishing. For now, you’re still good enough for me. When the time comes, I won’t send you to Value Village; I’ll use you in the summer when my bedroom gets cool and dampish and the bed needs a little ‘warm and dry’ boost.

It’s been great, talking to ya’, old blanket. I have to go to work now, because you and others use electricity and ‘that ain’t cheap’ as my ex-husband used to say.

See you tonight, my darling.


Someone or something you can’t communicate with through writing (a baby, a pet, an object) can understand every single word you write today, for one day only. What do you tell them?