August 13, 2016.

Dump (last few wine bottles from garden project). Break the fast. Weird here without the dog. Weird without WiFi…but, whatever. Radio all day. Bag hanging clothes. Box last few breakables, pack odds and ends. Break down sofa. Rapid and merciless assessment of garage (not much packing, mostly organizing). Confirm start date of new job (Tuesday?)…

June 6, 2016. Journal entry.

Winding down work.  Most loose ends knotted.  House on the market; the agent’s sign hangs tall at the bottom corner of the lawn. Mapped out my packing plan between now and moving day.  Scheduling dinner dates, drink gatherings, letmeseeyouoncemore times. It will be weird not going to marching band rehearsals; weird not witnessing the steady…

Welcome Mat. May 26, 2015.

Someone to come home to.  What a novel idea.   Why didn’t I think of this sooner? Singlehood and I have been a haphazard pair going on 13 years next month.  Twice I seriously tried to cut bait and try a new, real, partner but neither of us were ready.  So, we have rabbleroused and…

NaPoWriMo. On This Day. (Prosery. 8 April, 2014)

This life? This blustery calm circus of vibrant color and deepest freewheeling emotion? This wild Bossa Nova in 3-6-5 tempos of random kindness and distempered change punctuated by groaner punchlines whose menus never serve the same fare twice? This life where invisible wisdoms and sweeping awkward gestures of sweetest affection hold our hearts in most…

Bluegrass Sunday.

My first Dailey & Vincent concert. During the long-distance part of the LDR, this event every March marked a later Sunday morning phone call, especially if The Guy ‘ran squad’ the night before.  We’d talk after the concert was over, late afternoon/early evening.  I’ve heard about it, never got to go. Until today. Only seven…

Winter Blanket. March 18, 2013. [Poem]

  It is a falling-asleep sound snow turning unheard to blustery icy tiny cannonballs against the panes separated by damask curtains of black and white we go about our evening alterations one to blanket one blanketed both to rest a spell one to melt one to manifest desires and epiphanies in tomorrow’s light. DJD 2013

Wishing. (The last one I had.)

All I ever asked for [sitting in a darkened car alone on a night nearing Christmas 2012, dreading – yet, again – being the only single adult family member, the only divorced person, the only single Mama – and crying like I have never cried before] was this: Whoever is listening, and I’ve been told…

Trick, Treat, Bittersweet.

Two job screenings via telephone this morning (and well done, I might add.) One resulting in an interview tomorrow; the other, a “…we should know by Wednesday – please wait to hear from me.” Ambient sounds playlist for Trunk or Treat: mixed, downloaded, ready. (I love Spotify.) Plotting picnic supper for this evening while contemplating…

Vow in Autumn.

Nothing haunts me more than the things I never had the courage to say. Partnered with longing to take back spears thrown in the heat of battle or the enmeshment of insecurities weaving a relationship fabric so warped it serves as a battle flag to avoid that same slope and ditch in the future. Destiny….

Ostridge*.

“I am not a product of my circumstances.  I am a product of my decisions.” -Stephen Covey. *Yes, the title is mispelled.  It is mispelled on purpose, as are both those uses of “misspelled.”  They are, all three, misspelt (which is oddly correct, though it looks deplorable, doesn’t it?  It looks witchy and magickal.) by…

Bearings.

Sunday evening truth:  After two full weeks, I feel a bit lost. Maybe it will come and go, just as the realization I am actually here at all keeps knocking me over in unpredictable, powerful waves of ‘Oh my gosh!!’  They rise up at the silliest times and catch my breath.  At the kitchen sink…

August 13, 2015.

Some day, when I have an adult [male] friend nearby, we will go on dates, and meet spontaneously after work for drinks that lead to an early (or late) dinner, or a lone beer at a grubby watering hole. I will be so practiced by then from all these 15-or-so years of dining alone. I…