Life Journey – My Morning's Heart

Iron Butterfly

This stay home thing… while this world fights with Covid-19… has given me a lot of time for examining my current personal space in this lifetime.

It’s had a great impact on turning my perspective toward an entirely different direction.

But I can feel this Full Moon in Libra. Literally. I can feel it. Inside me. All this mental processing moving and swirling… recreating me. It’s like… sitting there watching a salon stylist transform a homeless guy that hasn’t shaved or had a haircut in over 5 years.

I like what I’m feeling. I’m just not so sure a lot of other people that have come in and out of my life will like it.

The Doormat has left the building! The contractor has come in and tiled the front entry of my life. And you better take your friggin’ shoes off before you step inside!

People go through experiences that can leave them forever changed. People that have come in and out of my life may begin to notice this in me.

I’ve taken time to look at all my experiences in various interactions with specific people in my life. Different scenarios. Different reasons. Good and bad.

My transformation in my journey has consumed so many issues in my life. A certain fact stands before me at this time.

For so many years… I was there for others. Because that’s who I was. That’s who I would love to be.

But my kindness and generosity were seen as a weakness.

And my love was run over by trains.

So much that I became tapped out. There was nothing left inside me to give. To anyone… or… anything. Mentally. Emotionally. Not even physically.

Not even to a marriage that had been nothing but a give… give… give experience for me… for over a decade… until I woke up one morning in my bed having this strong feeling of fear inside me.

I had a serious moment where I wasn’t so sure I had physical strength to get out of that damn bed. And that was when I knew… I needed to make a serious change in my life.

The world says… “You must own half the blame. You allowed it.”

I say… “Roll over and die. Because there is no wrong in being kind and generous.” The wrong sits in the lap of the one that chooses to abuse it.

I’ve only relocated from Athens to the Knoxville area over the past couple of months. I’ve loved living in East Tennessee… ever since I first moved here in 2001. Barely finished unpacking everything but the garage… when we’ve all encountered this nightmare with Covid-19.

But I look forward to finding new friends with common interests… once we all gain freedom to venture out without risk again.

I can easily claim at this moment… Until you take time to sit at a table with me while having coffee and just chatting in the future… you do not know me from Adam.

I don’t care who you are. You don’t know me anymore. And I don’t know you.

Again… people go through experiences in their lives that forever change them.

To all those I’ve been there for before… Thank You for all the lessons.

When All You Can Do Is… Be You.

I couldn’t seem to get out of my kitchen Wednesday afternoon.

And in my life today… it usually means I’ve reached the end of my rope over something.

In this case… it’s very true.

But I don’t care to waste my time talking about it.

I’d rather talk about what did get all my attention.

My big pot of chicken soup made on Monday reminded me of when the girl that gave birth to me would make Tacos for 14 people in the house… with 1 pound of ground beef.

And yes… this is one example for why I became enamored with cooking at a very early age.

No. Thank God… we had Home Economics classes in school… from the time I was in 8^th grade.

Anyway…

There was no more chicken in the freezer. Perfect excuse for a trip to Costco.

That turned into a detoured trip beginning at Target… followed by going south to Ingles just to get 2 jars of Dark Wildflower Honey (for Carlie’s grass allergy)… before heading back up Kingston Pike to Costco.

Fortunately… I was able to get gas there afterward.

I was able to get another FoodSaver. The other one went to Missouri.

So Wednesday afternoon… tripled the amount of chicken and added it to the soup before loading it into storage containers to freeze into blocks… which I will transfer into FoodSaver bags after freezing.

And then I grabbed that huge bag of baby spinach.

Felt like I was back in my element… blanching and bagging. That loud moan of the motor on the FoodSaver before it kicks in the heating sealer.

Two Cantaloupes. Cut up one into slices and stored in a gallon size Ziploc bag for the fridge. Cut the other into chunks and set out on a cookie sheet lined with parchment paper to freeze… before putting the FoodSaver to work again.

Unloaded the dishwasher and reloaded halfway. Handwashing 2 big pots.

Making room before setting up Oatmeal and Chocolate Chip Cookie dough.

About two thirds went into freezer containers. The rest in the fridge… for baking on Friday.

First time I’ve run that dishwasher twice in one day.

Housework. Laundry.

Happy with all that I accomplished on the Homefront.

Not happy with the root of the problem that stimulated the non-stop multi-tasking without a break.

This business with staying at home because of the Covid-19 has nothing to do with it.

Living out in the country gives one plenty of time to acclimate in this type of atmosphere.

I decided to act on a decision.

As Lauren Alaina sings it…

“I’m not okay but I’m gonna be alright…”

I went to Instagram early this morning… thinking I was the only one feeling this way.

I found out I am in way too much good company.

But at least I can feel really good about… being a good woman.

God knows… I’m a good… honest… strong… wise woman.

And He’s on my side.

That’s all that matters to me right now.

Knowledge and experience sit with me… holding my hand.

Telling me… “You know healing takes time. You got this. And you can even take care of your life while in the process.”

Let’s Talk About Babies

If anyone has ever paid attention to my blog postings.

If anyone who knows me… has ever paid attention to anything I say.

If anyone I have ever shared conversations with… has genuinely taken into account whatever I have shared.

Then you will recognize what I am about to say.

Very little has ever been mentioned… about my birth father.

Because he never made a sole effort to inject himself into my life.

Even as a child… it was me who had to reach out… to him.

And I got lucky with being able to do that.

It was my Dad… the man that raised me as his own… from the time I was 16 months old… who made it possible.

However… he insisted on telling me… what he decided I should know about my birth father.

I was only 9 years old then.

I had found a letter from my birth father’s second wife… explaining away not being able to pay child support.

Maybe I was only 9 years old. But I could do simple math.

I was the oldest kid in the family. And I was the only one that never got sunburns and peeled in the summer.

I now understand the pride in my Dad… blowing off the child support.

I can almost hear him say, “I don’t need that S.O.B.’s money. I’m doing okay raising her myself.”

Me standing on the bed… him standing at the foot of the bed in their bedroom.

Holding my arms gently… telling me… his version of the story.

He’s passed on to the other side now. He knows I know the truth now.

He knows I know… that he never met the man in his whole life.

But he knows the whole story. Right?

I know. I’m laughing, too.

Anyway…

At the end of the conversation… I asked if I would ever get to meet the man.

He promised I could… if we ever moved back to California.

I was 16 years old… when I got that opportunity to meet my birth father for the first time.

Finally… I could look in the mirror and see the other half of myself.

But fulfilling that promise came as a harsh blow to my Dad’s ego.

He felt as if all he’d given to raising me meant nothing.

His pain came out by way of violence… with the help of alcohol.

I have never forgotten that night… after coming back home from that visit.

At 16 years old… I felt like everything was my fault… simply because I wanted to meet this other man… so I could see who I looked like.

Things were never the same. In some ways… things became much worse.

The healing between my Dad and I came after he divorced the girl that gave birth to me.

That real father-daughter relationship… actually showed up.

Sadly… it happened 2.5 months before he was killed by a drunk driver.

But he will always be my Dad.

As a man… he was aware of the clout this world gives a man… compared to any woman.

He used it… to do something he never had to do.

He gave me the guidance of a father… flawed as it may have been.

Flawed as it always is. Parenting does NOT come with any manual.

But I am forever grateful for having my Dad.

There are babies that grow up in this world and become adults that carry flaws to the end of their journey.

Yet… one can look back and see the efforts they DID try to make… to do better… to be better.

But then… there are babies that come into this world… become adults and choose to remain stagnant throughout and to the end of their journey.

Some of us are born and grow up. Some of us are born and only age.

My Dad did the best he could with all the knowledge he had… even when he didn’t have to.

My hope is that this will awaken some young minds to understanding how accountability enters our lives.

We enter this world as babies. Initially… there are a woman AND a man… given with expectations… the positions of raising us until we reach the phase of adulthood.

Mainly because it takes a sperm and a womb to get us here.

Pay attention to the fact that I put the sperm in front of the womb.

Let that sink in.

This jacked up world has created a lousy bowl of gumbo in society that has generations growing up and giving no serious consideration… to the significance… of how we all get to this world.

And above all else… WHY.

Way too much confusion for babies and kids.

We all ask to come to this world.

But NONE OF US… ever sign up for THAT.

That’s WHY we have parents… who choose to take on the task of guiding us to adulthood… once we are conceived by their choice they both made… to make us possible.

“Just because you can… never means you should.”

For a lack of a better term for understanding… I refer to parents as parental authorities.

I leave it in a general sense because not all children have a heterosexual set… or even a full set… of parents living under the same roof throughout their entire childhood.

But let me make this personal opinion very clear.

This world seems to bash LGBT COUPLES for wanting to raise children.

To that I say it’s time to examine the insecurity that arises every time you consider the subject.

Why are you so afraid?

You lacking in something for which they exude fine detailing?

No judgement. Simply a question.

As children we see certain adults raising us as parental figures with authority. And we are expected to respect and obey.

We are supposed to be able to trust them as well. But that’s another conversation.

That’s not what we’re talking about here.

Anyway…

Too many of us are growing up with such a mix-mash of parental authority figures.

We are expected to adhere to the guidance of parental authority… until we reach that phase in our lives of adulthood.

Once we walk through those doors… that entire picture changes.

All those choices… are on us.

And yes.

We have a problem with parents who are confused… very confused… about that line where they must STOP… stand behind… and wave farewell… to giving all their instruction… as well as… holding expectations from us… any longer.

That’s where our first struggle with finding our true selves in our personal journey begins.

My birth father was… a teenager… still living at home with his mother.

By the time I was 9 years old… he was 27.

Wow. I just now realized… he was the same age as my Dad.

That impacts my thoughts… feelings… everything I’ve realized about the man… even more.

People can argue about what I am about to say next… forever. But deep down inside… everybody knows in their heart… this is the God’s honest truth.

This world still struggles with men refusing to allow women to be considered Queens.

Not only that. But… Queens with intelligence.

Governmental… organizational… business sectors. Even many religious sectors. Men in these positions have a really insecure mindset that makes them feel threatened by… women.

And for the record… Eve was just another relative of all the women living in this world today.

Seriously. Do some simple math. This is… the year 2020.

Anyway… all these sectors have no problem putting more focus and effort into pressing down women… before and rather than… putting that focus and effort into other issues… that can sustain a whole collective.

Power. Authority. And it receives all the money and other material riches to make the world go round.

It is what it is… and it remains… in this year of 2020… which is downright pathetic.

With all that said…

This issue has everything to do with the responsibility of boys becoming men.

And in my case… there came a time when my birth father had the world standing behind him… and giving him… everything he needed… to inject himself into my life.

Giving him. He had it made.

With two exceptions. His focus and effort.

He was warmly welcomed into learning the craft of a machinist in tool and dye. Earning that paycheck that buys the house and provides for the whole family.

You think any mother would receive the same?

That gave him all the power in the world to make choices. Act on decisions.

He chose. He cowed to another woman. He chose. No action toward his child.

This world needs to stop looking at women to do everything a man doesn’t feel like messing with… in relationships… and at home.

Because babies are being born. It takes a woman… AND a man… to make that happen.

The Divine expects the woman AND the man that conceive that child… to guide that child until they move into that phase of adulthood… regardless of whether or not they ever choose to separate in life.

BOTH… are accountable for making damn sure… BOTH are allowed to do so… without any interference.

It’s time to stop family members and others in their circle from interfering in your role as a parent.

It’s time for YOU to stop using a child as a weapon… and/or for manipulation and control in your own journey.

It’s time for all those Governmental… Organizational… Business… AND Religious sectors… to STOP all the biased… half-ass effort.

It’s time to get behind BOTH… the sperm AND the womb… FOR the baby born from it… ALL the way… in EVERY way of human rights that sustain their lives.

If you want a reason for why we’re all facing this Corona-virus and social distance from one another…

HERE IT IS!!

IT’S TIME FOR THIS WHOLE WORLD… to put its focus and attention on the protection of human rights of every baby coming into this world… and BOTH of their parents… regardless of their gender… their color… their religion… their sexual preference… as well as their predisposed societal judgment on this planet.

Truth be told… YOU need ALL THREE of them… just as much as anybody else in this world.

When The Current Shows The Calm In The Past

The obsession with materialism has never appealed to me.

I’m isolating myself at home… respecting requests over this situation with the Coronavirus.

Gives time to reflect.

Observing the social panic… over toilet paper… is becoming an interesting lesson in current society that… quite honestly… leaves a really sickening taste in my mouth.

Maybe I’m the odd one.

I just don’t need to hoard more than basic needs with a tinge of comfort.

Enough to keep it cozy and inviting for friends and family.

Materialism is not life… in truth. I’ve always chosen love over money.

I don’t care what anyone else tries to pin on me. I’ll say it right now. They’re full of shit!

I have ALWAYS earned my way. I have ALWAYS done my part.

In fact… naysayers are only yapping because I pulled back on over indulging them and their wants.

Thirsting for greed. A mindset of thinking one is entitled to take all they want… and leave others on the curb.

I cannot imagine having that mindset while laying on my deathbed.

I find value in a person that invests in their abilities. Their talents.

Builds that material world just enough to bring family and friends together.

At that point… it never matters what happens to all that material world… the money.

If it burns… if it’s stolen… it doesn’t matter.

Because that person who put it all together still carries all the true wealth… inside their mind and in their hands.

They can rebuild. They can save money again.

When it comes to a man… nothing turns me on more than a man who builds just enough to hold family and friends… and then insists on blocking time in life to enjoy time and life with them!

My Daddy had his flaws. But he sure made a point of doing that.

And he did teach me a lot.

When the chips were down… he was right there. Whatever you needed. Didn’t matter if he knew you… or not.

I watched him be taken for granted… in so many ways… by others.

I learned what not to do.

If my own efforts were ever thwarted by an inch… I would let him help me.

And then I would repay him… before doing anything else in my life for myself.

He was never afraid to respect me for that.

I can remember working part-time while in high school. First thing I chose to do was begin ‘paying room and board.’

I look back now and laugh with love at myself. And I know he did the same.

Why?

Because it was only $40.00 every 2 weeks. LMAO!!

But… back then… okay?

It was a chunk out of the few hours I was given to work each week. I was only making $2.15 per hour! Give me a break!

I was doing the REAL Part-Time scene…. A high school kid keeping her grades up so she could work 30 hours per week at McDonalds.

Ya’ damn right. We were required to bring our report cards in to work.

If we had lower than a 3.1 gpa… our hours got cut.

My boss was a retired Air Force Officer. Need I say more?

Daddy teased me once about the $40.00. I knew he wasn’t serious. I rolled with it!

Next payment… I told him… ‘Here’s your Get Out of Jail Money!’

Yeah. That was while I was rolling up his shirt sleeves… the way he insisted… so perfectly… before walking out the door to go bar hopping on a Friday night.

He was going to need that $34.50 to bail out!! LOL!

Our best times together before I turned 18 were spent in the bathroom.

Now… hang on! Hang on.

The man was vain! He spent more time than a teenager primping in the bathroom!

He never just… shaved. It was like un-painting a piece of art.

And styling his hair? Oh. My. God. He wouldn’t stop until the last hair was in its proper place!

I would sit there… watching. Sometimes laughing at his antics!

And he would sing. Ohhhh. The best part.

I loved listening to him sing.

In my life… I learned to be grateful for… love.

Daddy had a thing about keeping up with the Jones’. He was very materialistic.

But for him… it was about working hard all his life and having something to show for it.

He needed to exude pride for raising and taking care of a family.

I mean… the man was only 27 years old when he bought his first 3-bedroom brick home with a double car garage… and filled it with new furniture.

Brand new camping trailer that slept 6… brand new car… at least one classic car… and of course… his Bike!

He was in apprenticeship school for becoming a Journeyman Pipefitter-Welder.

He was awarded Journeman’s pay after being in school only 6 months of the 5 years to reach certification… two nights every week… after working a full day out at the refineries.

My Daddy was very well known in his craft. He had a very deeply respected reputation for his talents in Welding.

I know why he was so head strong about the Keeping up with the Jones’.

I understand the real message he was trying to convey.

My Grandparents had 9 out of 14 children survive.

Grandpa spent a lot of time away from the family… working at the shipyards… before moving back to Texas… when he became a Union Pipefitter.

It was rough on Grandma and the kids. Very rough.

I know that had a lot to do with Daddy’s thinking.

To an extent… I think he resented my Grandpa for being so absent and leaving all of them alone to fend for themselves. The struggles they endured.

Grandpa was an alcoholic. It was hereditary in the whole family. He drank up a lot of the money he earned.

Until he found Sobriety and threatened anyone that even thought about bringing alcohol into his house!

It became a family joke. And a few of the uncles rebelled… always sneaking it into that small house whenever we all got together for Christmas Eve!

Oh, he was funny! I love him so much! He was a mess!! They were all a mess!!

But I look at people today. The massive mindset fogged over by obsession for materialism.

It feels so dry and unfeeling… like an abandoned mall.

And even my Daddy would not want to sit in silence about it. I can see him throwing down his opinions.

He would be sad… disgusted… frustrated.

I don’t know. The ways of today have me reconsidering my perspective on my first 20 years of my life.

There was a lot of abuse. But there was a lot of family love. Love was first.

Love mattered. Alcohol got in the way. Lack of tools for maturation got in the way.

But love mattered… enough that I was able to feel it… until he was killed by a drunk driver.

With the majority of all that huge family now residing over on the other side… everything inside me says they all recognize things they would go back and do differently… if it were possible.

And in my book… that counts. Because… I feel them all with me… in my life more than they ever were on earth.

They count. Their love for me counts. I know they’ve got my back.

And I love each and every one of them… a hundred times more than I ever did while they were here on earth.

Because that’s who I am.

I’ve come full circle from the day I was born.

I am love.

Ying and Yang – Balance – The Battle

Ever experience having a friend or acquaintance you see almost daily… where you notice they change their mind about things really often… sometimes overnight?

You see a pattern in their thinking. One day they feel this way. Tomorrow they feel that way. It’s like they cannot make up their mind.

It can be exhausting for those on the outside seeing this person going through this… thing.

And they do it with almost every choice in their life.

They look crazy… to some people.

Always in their head. Right?

I’m one of those people.

I’ve known this for a very… very long time. It has always bothered me.

Why do I do such things?

This is something that can obstruct relationships in life.

You can lose friends. Family even negates you out of their equation.

You’re just accepted as being crazy.

And so for me… I separate myself from the whole population.

This is the longest period of time I have done such.

And I continue needing more time.

I’ve needed peace.

I’ve needed answers.

I’ve needed to understand why this goes on inside me.

I’ve needed to understand what others see on the outside of me.

I’ve needed to understand how… and why… I allow others to manipulate and abuse me through this thing I feel has been a weakness.

Some people in my life… may not have even been aware they were even doing so.

Nothing I can do about that.

It is for them to acknowledge with their own awareness.

My job has been to sort out my own self.

I can only speak for myself.

I can only depict the understanding I find… once it settles within my whole being.

Telling me I have found the correct answer… for myself.

Those daily swings of feeling this way one day… that way the next. That’s not crazy.

That’s me working my ass off… inside my mind and heart. Searching… fervently.

Imagine a plane dropping a piece of paper from 500 feet in the air.

Envision the paper making its way to the ground.

See how it swirls. Sways. Slowly descending. Until it reaches the ground. Where it rests in peace.

And then the garbage man picks it up and throws it into the back of the garbage truck!!

Hahaha!

Okay. Maybe that would be the piece of paper. Not me!

No. Reaching the ground for me would be my mind being given time to feel each possible resolution… to find the one that settles most peacefully inside me.

So many things in our lives function by requiring our thoughts… opinions… decisions… on so many different levels.

And I would bet most of us tangle most inside ourselves… when it comes to love.

Love on so many levels.

Family. Friends. Personal Goals.

That one we all seek. To walk alongside… through this life.

Who fits?

Why do they seem to fit?

What about them makes us feel good?

What about them yanks our last nerve?

I mean… balance requires both… good and bad. And most of all… honesty with ourselves.

I search all the time. I go back in the past only to seek where I went wrong.

It bothers me.

Without correcting my mistakes… I cannot move forward in a much more pleasant and peaceful frame of mind and heart.

I only wish to bring the best of myself to the table.

I must search my mind and heart with questions for myself.

I must be willing to answer honestly… without fear.

I must be willing to acknowledge my own growth evolves from all this hard work.

And with that said… there may be changes within me that another may not be willing to respect… and/or accept.

I must hone my strength to accept their choice with respect.

Move on… knowing there is someone in this world that is able and willing.

But with that said… can my mind and heart swing back to a longtime truth I have been struggling with?

Love for a soul whose eyes I have never seen. This has been a battle for me.

Heartache. Heartbreak. Back and forth. In and out. Present. Absent.

The absence is the worst. It has been the latest. And the longest.

None of the pain settles inside me. It’s not what I seek. I run.

I fight to let go. I fight to feel nothing.

To feel even anger… is to feel something. And that keeps that cord to that connection secure.

I fight until all I can do is cry.

When there’s no fight left inside me… all I can do is surrender myself… giving in and taking that time to cry it all out.

I get one single day of feeling clear.

The next day… it’s like God steps in and says… “Nope. I will win.”

Aaaaaaaand…. I’m swinging back to the other end of the spectrum.

This love for this soul with eyes I’ve never seen… simply refuses to go away and leave me alone.

Why?

I’m able to carry on with my own life… work on my goals. And I’m able to roll with the flow… easily.

I go about my days now… taking care of everything in my life with absolutely no desire to respond to any man approaching me… which is something totally out of character for me now.

Except one.

This is the one answer that has me struggling to find an understanding.

No matter what I do in my life… he is still there. He still owns my heart.

Why?

What is The Divine concocting?

Cutting The Cord

“Who is this man he is angry with?”

He is angry with himself. As he should be.

Why is he angry with himself?

That is for him to openly admit… to himself… and to all of us… whenever he decides.

No longer any of my concern.

I have cried him out.

I’m left with no other choice.

I move on to finish the rest of this lifetime without him.

Please let it go quickly.

For we are all cowards… one way or another.

**Artist – Anne Stokes

A Happy Home Takes Small Steps

Moving into this house had me so excited! And here I go again… losing track of time and placing high expectations on myself.

Something inside tells me the entire house should already be arranged… everything in its place.

Something else struggles with not knowing where to put so many things.

And then the brain grabs both by the neck and says… “Shut up. You only moved in here 10 days ago!”

I’ve had friends tell me they’ve moved into places and still had boxes left to be unpacked six months to a year after moving in.

That would drive me nuts! Imagine… looking for that favorite ink pen.

I can’t believe I’m actually beginning to feel so intimidated by all this space under the roof where I now reside.

What’s even scary is the fact that it has me thinking back to our house on Kingston Drive in Texas City when I was a small girl… a LOT.

And that house was smaller. Maybe it’s because I was so small back then.

Maybe it’s the double car garage. Maybe it’s the huge backyard.

Maybe it’s the fact that I’m now living in a neighborhood with homes right next to each other.

It’s funny how all those feelings of security go away when you depart from such surroundings for so many years.

I step out into the garage and my first thought is… “Where am I going to put all this stuff?”

But… there are shelves and cabinets… EVERYWHERE.

Maybe it’s because I have kept everything in totes for so many years?

Okay. So… “Where am I going to put all those totes?”

Right. I know. Shaking my own damn head.

I keep forgetting… I need to get 3 of those little step stools. You know… the kind for little kids.

One for the kitchen.

The other two for the two toilets. I can’t reach the floor!!!

But there IS a blessing to both of them… which I did manifest by the way.

You can stick your head in both toilets… scream as loud as you want without pissing off the neighbors!

No I haven’t tried it! YOU try it!

I just know. They’re so quiet!

The wish was actually manifested for the home I’m buying in the future.

But what the heck. I’d be out of my mind… to complain about the gift of quiet toilets coming into my life twice!

One thing I am enjoying immensely! That thermostat is turned down to 68* Fahrenheit… and I feel so cozy!!

Well… I’ll get there. But I refuse to buy any furniture until I get all the other stuff situated!

Okay. So this will be the last photo of the Dining Room… for a while.

I keep taking photos every few days. It helps me see the progress.

No. I don’t feel it.

Well… I feel all the bruises from my neck down… caused by all the cardboard boxes.

I feel all the stiffness and soreness… beginning to go away.

But I won’t… feel… all the progress… until everything’s in its place.

Just me being… me.

I know. I know. Shaking my own damn head.

When The Universe Answers Prayers

When you put your faith in The Divine… and you follow your intuition… the highest good of all will always come forward.

And your blessings arrive.

I have lived in 788 square feet since last August. Do not misunderstand me. I feel forever grateful toward The Divine, my Angels and all my Spirit Guides for covering my back door and protecting me. This was a blessing that was gifted to me at a time when I really… really needed it.

A 1940’s house… with a bathroom that looked like it was an after-thought. Who knows? This IS East Tennessee.

I mean… they still have houses in parts around here without electricity. Mountain People abound. Good people! Just simple living… within their means. You can trust them more than Bankers.

And technology may have us all feeling like the 1940’s was another era. But in truth… it really was not that long ago.

I manifested every bit of this. And here it is… almost to a perfect letter.

The home I hoped for… with the space I needed. A fenced backyard for Carlie. Fireplace. Double car garage. Garage Door Opener. Laundry room off the kitchen. A nice… quiet… shingled roof!

No more metal roofs! Same as saying, “No more wire hangers!” (Remember which movie?)

And there’s a Doorbell!! I haven’t had a doorbell in years!

In Farragut… right behind Turkey Creek… smack in the middle of where I need to be for moving forward with my goals!! Just around the corner from Costco! My Putt Putt’s gas tank and I won’t be having so many of those bitter conversations any longer.

But I have been running my butt off ever since I got the approval last week!

I’m halfway there. No more reason to drive to Athens anymore. Thank God!

My new abode is a complete wreck at the moment. And it just may be for several weeks. Okay… so I’m putting cushion into the schedule. But either way… I am knocking out boxes, one by one.

I just know I will find that Netgear Router… eventually.

Yeah. I know. Should have seen me when I couldn’t find my coffee beans. Found the pot. Found my coffee cups. Even found the grinder!

But I came really close to getting in the car and going after another bag of beans from Costco. Starbucks was in the opposite direction.

I filled the dishwasher this evening. Could NOT figure out how to turn the booger on! So my fix… wrote down the model number and went to the Internet. Found the instruction manual at the manufacturer’s website and printed that puppy out!

Printed out 52 friggin’ pages. Got two-thirds of the way through printing before I realized half of it was the Spanish version!

I know! I know. Never said the brains were perfect!

Got my bed set up this evening. But as long as I’ve got this little resting nook for taking breaks until I get everything squared away… I’m grateful!!

Little by little… I’ll get there. I just keep putting one foot in front of the other. I keep praying.

And there’s Daffodils coming up under the mailbox!!

I’m so excited!! I’m so happy to be back down in my Stomping Grounds!

Oh. Wait until you see what I’m doing with the other two bedrooms. It’s a secret. But I’ll give you a bread crumb.

I’m sitting in one of them right now.

Nope. That’s all. Not another word about ‘em!

I’m so excited!!!

Stepping Stones Toward Reaching Goals

My daily blogging is looking like Swiss cheese again. I know. Believe me. My mind… heart… and muscles are all too aware. Been a lot going on.

Back in August, 2019 I ended up having to rent a house in a town that was almost 63 miles south of where I needed to be located. I had to rent the house sight unseen.

Long story. Sometimes… you have to be willing to struggle in your life… to get around major breathing obstacles having bad intentions.

I chose to accept this house as being a blessing. And gratitude thrives from my heart… as always. Looking back… I can almost see the clothing all the Angels wore while they were covering my back door.

I had an option to purchase this house. Once I had made my final decision about what I wanted to do with my passion… I knew it was not going to fit in with my goals.

The location was… definitely… an obstruction in the big picture. Only 788 square feet of house.

But my gratitude to the Landlord and those that helped me in the process… put faith and trust in me… will forever exist.

This was a stepping stone for me. And now… time has come for moving forward to my next step.

I’m relocating to the area where I need to reside. This holds so much more common sense for me. I won’t be opening the cap for my gas tank on my car so much… to say the least.

There is a fenced yard for Carlie! There is a double car garage, which will help me with storage. Separate storage shed in the backyard for the yard tools. Separate laundry room… just off the kitchen.

Living room and family room. Fireplace. Covered back patio… just outside the French doors. Open kitchen! I love open kitchens… lots of cabinets… and a load of light coming from the window.

Finally… a kitchen window that’s not so high it keeps me from watching things outside while I’m washing dishes or cooking! I can watch my Bird Feeders again!

And now I have plenty of room for my goal. Since my divorce began and I relocated… I have been investing in equipment… software… books and supplies for my passion.

I have studied. I have practiced. Now I am ready to go to work.

I prayed for this. I’ve worked hard for it. I deserve this stepping stone.

My presence and personal communication has been vague with friends and family in Facebook. Saved my ranting for Twitter. Okay… most of it.

I don’t know. I’ve probably appeared as if I’ve been sitting on a couch and soaking up the portion of my divorce settlement investing in and devouring Bon Bons.

Or… going out to the Bars and Nightclubs… hooking up with men. Getting that good dose of Rebound Flings. Taking off on cruises. Weekly total Spa treatments. Or… whatever the hell women do after divorce these days.

No.

And other men? In my life? Seriously? I am just now getting over that feeling of wanting to murder the next one that even looks at me with a friggin’ grin. But that trigger can raise from the dead by any man choosing to become stupid.

Just being honest. I’m not all the way healed. I’m a work in progress.

When it comes to men… I only think about one. Still. Always. My Knight. YOU. The only man I have room for in my life.

But he’s not here. I guess he has his reasons. So I focus on me… my goals. I do what I CAN do… to keep standing. To keep moving forward. And praying.

Part of my life goal is to buy my own home. Well… this country holds a leash and shock collar on the demands for being able to buy a home. You must have a good credit score. You must have a sizable down-payment. You must have a good record of employment outside the home… for at least 6 months.

The word of a human being no longer has any meaning in this country any longer.

I worked more than one job at home… including raising cattle… worked harder than I ever did when I was employed in the airline industry.

I busted my ass as much as my Dad did… as a Journeyman Pipefitter Welder.

Actually… I worked harder. I was 24-7 on-call status. I never got a day off. In almost 18 years of marriage… only one weekend vacation to Jackson, Tennessee to go Crappie fishing. And one weekend trip to Savannah, Georgia. It was a Mother’s Day – Pick up a tractor weekend.

But the only thing that matters to America is… I didn’t leave the house and bring home a paycheck.

The Credit Union told me I needed to hold a part-time job for at least 6 months… before they would give me a mortgage loan for $90,000.00.

Right. So… you’re telling me… I can go work 12 hours each week… for 6 months… at $11.00 per hour… and you will give me that loan?

Can you hear me laughing at the insanity? Believe me… it’s sandwiching anger. For so many good and loving human beings in this country.

This is what they do in this country. The truth is as pure as sewage. And the arguments are as lame… shallow… and LAZY as it gets.

And then we wonder why so many elderly people are having to sacrifice and choose their battles between eating… paying ridiculous monthly health insurance premiums… car insurance… gas for the car… and paying the insane costs for their pharmaceutical meds.

Other options to buying a home. If you are self-employed… you must have 2 years of tax records to prove stability to secure maintaining a mortgage.

Next come the Snakes… who tell you they can get you into a home without any down-payment… no job status required… blah blah blah.

The trap… You pay 40-60 percent of the price for the property… up front. And the interest rate is just… stupid.

They justify the monthly mortgage figure with the fact that it’s still less than monthly rent for a 3-bedroom apartment. “Let’s not squabble about it only being 35 cents, okay?”

Yeah, right. Piss in one hand and wish in the other, Moron. See which one warms your heart faster.

Moving along…

So… over the past 6 months I have been steadily working on my credit score. The 700+ credit score I half earned relocated out of state. My part dropped to 520. His stayed the same. He took it with him. Ahhh… but there’s a reason why his credit score sat up in the balcony seats.

I handled all the finances up until the last year and a half before the divorce.

Starting over did not come without a steep price… of course. Just to get the utilities turned on required pennies short of $1,000.00.

But little by little… and doing nothing more than paying my bills on time… I have raised my credit score up into the healthy ‘Fair’ bracket.

So… I’m moving into a much nicer home! But remember… I have no… ‘job’.

How do you relocate almost 62 miles away… working any part-time job… where they’re only giving you 12 hours each week?

Why bother?

Every penny goes inside the gas tank. And it simply amazes me to see how the financial realm in this country is so lame at doing common sense math. There’s only one explanation.

Nobody cares in this country.

I decided early on… this house was not going to work. It wasn’t working for my plans. And it wasn’t working in my life.

So I had to get really creative… again. And sacrifice… again.

Now at this point… moving into this next house is supposed to be another stepping stone. From here… I go get that lame 12-hour per week job and work on my passion at the house.

My next step is… buying my own home.

It’s NOT going to matter to anyone at the bank… how much money I will have in my bank account. My passion goal can start rolling in enough cash that sets me up really great!

Most people quit their ‘jobs’ when this happens. But me? Oh, no. I cannot quit my ‘job’… unless I want to wait 2-3 years… to prove stability with my passion goal.

Because the bank won’t care. They just want to see the check stubs proving the length of time I have been employed outside the home. Never mind my perfect consistency with paying all my bills… including a signature loan I have carried… with THEM… over the past 6 months.

And the real pisser… the Rent is double the cost of a monthly mortgage payment. This is a serious problem in this country. The mentality in general… running amuck within our existing corporate world is just… totally inhumane and unconscionable.

And they do it because they can. They do it because we don’t do our background research on local politicians… and make damn sure the crooked ones never make it to Washington, D.C..

Even in the game Clash of Kings… Kingdoms have the rule about not attacking main castles.

It allows players to grow in the game. They have a fair chance to become a valuable asset to the kingdom.

The difference between the two?

Human beings from NATIONS ALL AROUND THIS WORLD play in Clash of Kings.

*** Note: This is NOT an endorsement for Lowe’s, nor do I receive any funds for using the moving carton in my photo.

And I Made My Decision

The alarms on the clocks sound from my Kindle and my phone. A new day arrives after making a decision before bedtime last night.

I chose walking away.

I know me. I know my heart. I know my conscience. I know the kind of love I am capable of giving. But I also know the kind of love I deserve.

And beginning today… I will love me.

I rise for my usual morning routine. My bed is made. I dress. Carlie gets her tone collar put on before being let out for her morning constitutions. Her breakfast is prepared… soaking in hot water to make its ‘gravy’ that she loves.

The usual brushing of my hair and teeth. Then… I grind fresh coffee bean and set the pot brewing. That soft ‘bark’ at the front door. Carlie comes back in and heads for her breakfast after removal of her collar.

There is something about the smell of a fresh cup of hot coffee before the sun even begins to rise. It’s like… “Good morning!” And just taking a few moments to absorb how it makes me feel… makes me ready for my next couple of hours.

I’m into my daily guidance on YouTube… listening to Tilly’s daily reading for today… when I have to pause. Carlie’s finished breakfast. She won’t let the world continue until she gets her cookies.

Tilly’s reading is finished. I move on to Gemma’s reading for the day… followed by Uriel’s reading for the weekend.

It’s amazing how all three women cover all aspects of life in their own way. Light Readers are gifted with their own unique guidance.

I’m so comfortable… thankful… and grateful for how I’ve come to rely on these three women for offering me a peek into what I can expect for the day… what guidance I need from The Divine, the Angels and The Universe.

Fanny is my Go-To for my monthly guidance as an individual. Still… I gain those daily steps from the other three earth angels!

But it was my own readings I did last night… through Colleen Baron-Reid’s Wisdom of The Oracle and Lucy Cavendish’s Dragonfae Apps (apparently, no longer available in Google’s Play Store?)… that led me to my final decision.

The rest of the day will include more study for a couple hours into the subject of my main goal in life… as well as the current tasks I’m in the middle of handling. Daily household duties requiring my attention around the house will be completed. And my evening will be free for planning my weekend.

I always pay attention to how my entire body feels after making decisions like this. There is a sense of peace that covers me. Reminds me of a baby’s face… just after entering this world and resting on Mom’s chest… eyes open and looking up at her… so quietly and relaxed.

All the locks at the Dam of Tears seem to have been shut down and not a drop releasing.

And for the first time… I feel what I had manifested long ago… when I experienced the first round of pain that took me too close to a cliff’s edge that nobody really wants to ever see.

I wanted to think of Alan… and feel nothing.

I needed to feel nothing. I know me. I have fought a part of me for a very long time now.

There is no man or woman on this planet worth ending your life over… just to feel nothing.

Yes. It’s a war inside one’s self. This was the worst war I’ve fought.

Many battles with hope… faith… that loyalty I tried hanging onto for dear life… for only all the right things that have been allowed to exist inside my heart.

My Castle Doors slammed shut. Several times. That Drawbridge lifted and locked tight. That Moat filled to the brim and loaded with a fresh herd of every kind of sea animal that would eat a man or woman without leaving a bit of evidence.

And still… I remained willing to meet halfway… to reopen negotiation… with him.

It’s exhausting. But this morning I can wake up and say… “I truly gave it my best.” At least I know I tried.

But this is not my loss. He gets to own the loss.

And he will never know all that he lost. Little does he realize… I never showed him all of me. I’m not that naïve.

They never see the best of me… until they’ve given me the best of them.

I win. In the end… I get to have Teresa.