Tag: Passion

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.

Did You Hear That Door Lock?

I just need to say… I am so relieved to have walked through that door to 2020 and left 2019 buried in some cemetery.  Bottom line… simply one horrible year for me.

In my Tarot readings I was advised to work on planning during the month of December.  Major decisions were made for my life.  Lots of shedding.  Lots left behind.

But then there were the important things in my life that I got to choose to take with me… into 2020.  Goals.  Decisions.  And with or without me… People.

There are actually… very few people I chose to take with me.  But this will be the year when I build new friendships with like-minded people having that same depth of heart and emotions… conscience… kindness… respect… and goals!!

This year is about my heart.  Happiness.  Goals.  There can never be enough said about Goals.  Prosperity.  Abundance.

Love?  I don’t know.  In God’s hands.  Divine Timing.  For now… I am enough.  I have to be enough for now.  And I’m okay with that.

Did I tell you I’ve got goals?  ;)~

My Twin Flame.  In God’s hands.  But never left behind.  And never without my love.  I pray for him.  I pray for his happiness.  I pray for the Universe to bless him with Discernment… Strength… Courage… Wisdom.  Everything for him to rebuild himself from the center of standing in his own truth… his own authenticity… his own wishes… his own goals… his own dreams.

I still believe in him.  I know he can do it.

Understanding and compromise would be two wonderful goals.

I just refuse to pray from inside some closet.  I think that is unrealistic… inhumanely unfair.  And I KNOW it’s just… non-negotiable.

Certain other loved ones that I chose to bring with me.  And then there are those that… basically… helped me choose to leave them behind.  And I’m perfectly okay with that.  I know my truth.

This year is about getting back in touch with myself.  I was so lost and separated from myself for so long.

This is my year.  Finally.  It’s my turn.

I stay more to myself now.  The time will come when it is safe enough for me to speak about all the hard work I am currently in the middle of completing.

Sadly… there are people in this world that just thrive on bringing other people to failure by their dirty deeds.  Out of jealousy.  Out of insecurity.

Simply because you are no longer at their disposal for using your talents to improve their lives… at the expense of your own.  And of course… when all that happens the rest of the world around you is fed a lot of false bravado… which seems to be preferred over truth and honesty in this ever-increasing mad world.

Pathetic.  But hey… those abusers get free will, too.  Whatever.

I prefer to stay to myself and focus on the positive issues in my life.  I mind my own damn business.  I take care of me.

In essence… I’m really not doing anything much more differently than I’ve ever done before.  The only difference is… Now I’m doing it for someone that SEES my hard work… APPRECIATES my efforts… REALIZES my value… and GIVES ME THE CORRECT CREDIT THAT I’M EARNING… THAT I DESERVE.

I’m doing it all for myself.

The difference I feel inside of me is something I cannot even measure.  Now my heart receives what it always needed before… in order to give me that drive to keep moving forward with accomplishing even greater things in life with so much more pleasure and satisfaction.

The results are now much better.  No more half-ass.  I’m a lot less stressed and tired.  No more having to pick my battles.  No more having to fight for half-ass.

I’m able to make a decision.  And now I have the freedom to lay out the tasks in such a way that makes it easy for me to get things done.

So simple.  Which only shows… it never had to be so damn difficult… nor ridiculous.

All the money in the world… won’t even hold the value of an ounce of human piss… against the value of brains… conscience… integrity… truth… common sense… self-love… self-reliance… and self-respect.

And THAT… was in my little suitcase that I carried with me through that door to 2020… after burying 2019 in a cemetery.

I just hope everyone else in this world finds their way to their own healing… truths… finds their own value… self-worth… and self-respect… whatever you need to make you feel whole and happy… from inside yourself.

Happy New Year!

Some Journeys Go Around The Holidays

I’m at a point in my life where my trust in anything and anyone… has been absolutely shattered.

I’m feeling safer by just being alone at this time.

I’m not even capable of responding to messages on the Internet from any guy I don’t even know.  Honestly… he’s better off if I don’t respond.

There is no telling what may be loaded in those darts I throw.

I’m really going through a lot of deep diving in this journey right now.  The process has its days when sorting can be quite overwhelming.  Issues surface from out of left field… totally unexpected.

But you can’t heal until you address the wound.

I have warned people before.  I am raw honest.  This is my journal about my journey.

Over the course of my life I’ve been forced… manipulated… even conned into holding back… in so many ways… for so many shallow-minded… mean… selfish reasons… by many people.

What have I learned from all that so far?  I’m learning how to avoid putting myself in those scenarios.

But for now… this is my turn.  And there’s no holding back from purging anything.

So put on your seatbelt.

Because today I’m talking about… sex.

Serious subject for me.  I don’t take it for granted.  And I have put a halt to me being taken for granted in general.  But even more-so… with sex.

I communicate some really deep emotions through sex.  For me… it is making love.  I’m saying ‘I love you’… in the deepest way possible.

Having your child… was my way of saying how much.

Yeah.  Missed the message.  Didn’t you!

Well.  I tried.

Sex is not part of some daily routine for me… like Pilates… Yoga… Jogging… or some other daily exercise.

Yeah.  I don’t do the Quickie before heading to the grocery store… or the races… or a family dinner… or even before going out dancing.  I might be looked at… or maybe even touched on my arm like a feather enough to make us forget about going to the grocery store.  And the only thing possibly happening after getting dressed and before going out dancing might be a couple shots.

Just sayin’.  Gotta catch us, first!  lol

But.. no.  Sex is not a glimpse in my book.

When you’re having sex with me… you need to understand that I am telling you this is not just some date with me.  I am letting you know that my feelings for you go deeper than just dating.  I’m letting you know that I want to have an exclusive relationship with you.  I’m telling you that I love you.  And I’m letting you know that I want to fall in love with you.

And if that’s too deep for you… feel free to go find a more shallow… pond!

Promises don’t count anymore.  Too many men have broken promises to me.

Noooo.  Actually… the pathetic truth in that statement is… I have not had sex with every man that’s broken a promise to me.

Been a long time since I’ve even been around any man that can be trusted by his word.

My two marriages were quite… dynamic… in their own special way.

My first marriage… I ended up having sex with multiple partners.  The man I was married to… and whatever friend he invited into our bed with us each night.

Jim Beam… Johnnie Walker… Jack Daniels… whatever.  And that crap got old… really quickly.

Believe me… saying ‘I love you’ was… far from anything I had to say to any of them.  Most of the time… it was… “Goodnight.”

Ask him!  Oh wait…. he probably will not remember.  There were nights we did and he still thinks we didn’t.  What else can I say?

My last marriage… I have no idea what to even say.

Okay.  Let’s try this.  I never got a fair chance to start saying, ‘I love you.’ 

Yeah.  Almost 18 years.

Reconstituted Virgin I am!

Shut up.  I AM being nice.  You weren’t there.

I had a post come through my feed somewhere (I hop around like a cricket on my breaks) earlier this week… asking a question.

“If you could go back and do one thing in your life… what would it be?”

My first thought was…

“I’d go ahead and follow through with my plans… that night I changed my mind and decided not to go out to Scruples on the night before Thanksgiving, 1991.”

Back then… everybody that was living out of town always came home for the holidays.

The true love of my life was hit and killed while trying to cross the street to get to his pickup after walking out of Scruples that night… actually, around 12:30am Thanksgiving morning.

Everybody had practically crawled over each other… three years prior… to get to me and tell me he was getting married… two weeks after I came back home from California.  Of course, I knew the truth about why and all.  And she had to live through the truth… which had to be difficult.  He had free choice.  I loved him that much.  And yes.  It hurt.

I ended up having to move out of town.  I could not go out anywhere with friends… without him being there with her.  To be expected.  Small town.  But when I’d walk inside a place… he’d forget she was even there.  He even pinned me in the hallway to the bathrooms one night… while she sat at a table seeing everything.  I couldn’t allow that.

Some of my words… “No, Skippy.  I will not let you do this to her.”

He made the 4-hour drive to come looking for me one weekend.  Found him and one of our friends on the dam.  Drunk… bleeding. Tony’s truck torn up.  They’d hit some elder lady’s car on the dam.  I insisted we keep driving to the house… where I called his brother.  Left a message.  By then… I’d heard about rumors she was going around town spreading… things I was supposed to be doing around town… while I was living over 200 miles away.

I’ve always known.  I’m just that damn good.  Ya’ know?  Right. (smdh)

I wasn’t about to give her anymore fodder.  She’d done well enough on her own.  I knew they were going to jail.  I knew his brother would come bail them out.

What I didn’t know was… he was coming to find me… and tell me the divorce had been filed.  None of his so-called ‘friends’ ever bothered to call and tell me anything then… despite having the toll-free number for my shop.

Remember… this was winter… 1991.  Did we even have cellphones then?

I found out later… the divorce was supposed to be final on Thanksgiving Day.

But I woke up Thanksgiving morning, 1991… made coffee.  Walked outside to take the dog out to go pee and get the newspaper.  Came in.  Poured my cup of coffee.  Sat down with the newspaper.  Opened it to Page 2.

I do not remember much about my life from that morning… Until January 1992.  I do remember nothing making sense.  I remember feeling as if my presence on this planet no longer made any sense.

Jen and I back in California.  Living with my birth parents.  I decided to go to school to become a state certified Animal Health Technician.  They’re strict in California.  You can’t get in with experience, alone.

This was supposed to be the thread that would keep me hanging on.  It didn’t turn out that way.  But that’s a whole different chapter about my survival.

I lived with guilt… for DECADES.  Thinking I could have saved him… if only I had gone ahead and gone out to the club that night.

It was 2007.  I was washing dishes.  Thinking about Skip.  The guilt sent me into tears.  This pain never went away.  Something I just never could quit thinking about.  It happened a lot.  But on this particular day… something different happened.

I heard my Daddy.  “Baby.  It wasn’t your time to go.  You understand?”

After all those years… he showed me the reality I had never even considered.  He decided it was time for me to know the truth… 16 years later.

I would have gone with Skip.  Who would take care of Jennifer?

And then I realized… it was my Daddy that put that sick feeling in my gut that made me change my mind that night.  Overwhelming guilt in my head about leaving Jen with Mara to babysit.  But he did it to save my life.  And he was worried about Jennifer as well.

I don’t know why it took so long.  Maybe it was Skippy’s request.  With all the wisdom and understanding I have now… that would make perfect sense.  And I guess I would deserve it.

Wanting me to hurt as much as he loved me.  So I could finally see… he really did love me.  He really was faithful to me.  He wasn’t screwing around on me… like all the other guys I watched doing to their wives and girlfriends when I drove to Matagorda for the weekend.

I sabotaged that relationship with the love of my life… out of fear.  If all the other guys were cheating… why should I believe he was being a perfect angel for me?

The truth is… he was.  I just did not have any self-confidence to believe I was worth being loved that much… in the very way I always wished and hoped for.  Forget loving myself.  I didn’t even know myself.  I’d never been allowed to know myself freely.  Teresa was already shoved down in her little pinky toe.

But just as I’m writing this post… I’m realizing… my Daddy came to me with the message around the time I… finally confessed to my… new-ex… out loud… the fact that I would not be married to him… if Skip were still on this planet.

The longer I think about that question… I would go even further back in time… for that one thing I would do over again in my life… if I could.

Skip knows exactly what night I’m talking about.  To have all the knowledge I have about life and spiritualism today.  To get the chance to go back to that night.  Everything in my life would take that road God intended.

Skip’s over there with my Daddy now.  He knows everything as well… just like my Daddy.  And he’s very well aware that I’ve never made it any secret to anyone close to me that knew him.

He was the love of my life.  I would have had another dozen kids with that man.  And he tried!  He fought me with the birth control!

You couldn’t put crazy past Skippy Bullard!  That is God’s honest truth!  Anybody still living who knew him will verify!

But today… life is what it is.  And just knowing the truth is enough for both of us.  It has to be.  We can’t go back.

Still… here I am.  But everything changes as I move forward in this journey.  I learn more about who I am… and what I no longer have to put up with.  What I no longer have to fear.  What I no longer have to settle for.  What I have every right to receive for all that I give.  And when I’m pushed… I push back.

I deserve love in all the best ways… for all the right reasons.

I deserve my love to be accepted in all its forms as truth and with complete understanding.

Unfortunately… trust… will be the most difficult challenge for any other man to earn from me and build with me… before making it through these castle walls that protect me.

Now you see why I’m prepared to be alone?

At least I’m honest.

*** Interesting reading about the meaning behind the card I drew after finishing this post.  (Click Here) to get there.

Time and Threads

The last couple of days have been… interesting.  To say the least.  Tomorrow will be quite a milestone in my life.

Which is funny.  My card that I drew for this post feels like some twisted compromise.  Because I’ll be scratching something off my bucket list.  And it just may be a little further in the opposite direction from any retreat.  😉

I guess the surprise will be posted on my blog for Saturday.  Neener Neener!  ;)~

But let me show you a little bit about… yesterday.  My passion for sewing takes me down some curvy roads.

Patterns are really expensive now.  The thought of cutting off two other sizes… or… even sticking straight pins in them.  I don’t know about anyone else.  But for me… it’s like scratching on a chalkboard.

To begin with… just cutting out the pieces and ironing each one is a chore.  But that’s just the beginning for me.

Because I transpose pieces… according to size… onto a medium strength interfacing.  That consists of a whole lot of marking… fighting with keeping everything lined up… before cutting out pieces again!

For me… it’s worth the time and investment… of the investment in a pattern.  I’m still left with options for all the sizes available… down the road.

Besides… the Interfacing is stronger than the actual pattern.  Sticking straight pins  through that doesn’t bother me.  When it becomes worn… I’ll just transpose another one!

I watched The Neverending Story II… and Return To Me by the time I made it to this point!  By then… it was 10:09pm.

It was around 11:30pm when I called it quits… after ironing that fabric and laying it out to fit pieces so I could cut off the excess for additional pieces.

So buying a pattern comes with a commitment to a whole day for me.  The good thing about that is… I can cut out fabric pieces and get sewing a lot sooner than it takes me to transpose patterns!

Right?!

I dunno.  Cut out… what fabric pieces?

Exactly.

I do a wide straight stitch across cut ends to stop fraying… before they go into the washer.  Fabrics have to go through a prewashing.  And then they have to be folded.

And then there’s all the ironing before laying out the double-layer of fabric for pinning pieces to cut out.

Let’s not forget… driving and shopping for the fabric… and all the other notions needed.  Interfacing… thread… ribbon… lace… other trims… buttons… elastic… bias tape… snap tape.  And that’s just for the garments.

Sewing supplies have to be stocked up and replaced as well.  So… it’s always a work in progress.  It takes a strong commitment of time… and money.

But the finished handmade garments… they last a LOT longer.  When somebody has put the investment into high-quality fabrics and threads… you get that garment that you can count on having around for those hand-me-downs to dress your future kids… or grandkids… nieces… nephews… you get the picture!

And let me encourage you to go take a gander online… to check out the prices on fabrics by the yard.  It will blow your mind.  Until you go into the chain stores and start going through the prices of kids’ clothes… the quality of the fabrics… the quality of the sewing.

On a personal note…

I am very scattered these days.  In a good way.  Taking care of many areas of my life… all at once.  A great deal of mental and emotional sorting.

Sewing helps me take care of much of the sorting.  I think about things while I’m working on projects.

And even with all that… I’m washing dishes… changing the linens on my bed and throwing the used set in the washer.  Picking up around the house.  Setting up a pot of Beef Soup to cook a couple hours.

And then those moments come.  Out of nowhere.  I’m in the middle of doing something… and here he comes.  I can feel him!

So I take a break.  And give what I can.  With love.