Category: Musings

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I’m not sure this is a good idea.

I just got an invitation from some of The Other half’s circle of old friends, to attend a beginning of summer event.

Generally speaking members of the group are okay people. There’s one however who drinks too damn much and then becomes an asshole.

NO, It’s not me… I’m an asshole ALL the time! I don’t need booze to become one.

On the one hand I’d like to see some of these guys and I’m sure they have questions about the Other Half’s passing. They deserve answers and I suppose it’s out of a sense of duty to the Other Half that I’m considering going to the event.

I’ll admit to an ulterior motive in going because the asshole likes to pick on people he considers to be “less than”. This particular person is an academic elitist with an Art degree of some sort and considered people like me “less than,” in spades.

I’m not an academic, and I was actually involved in the production of goods and services. He’s always liked getting under my skin, it was somehow amusing or entertaining for this guy to sour every single party we attended. I was always restrained so that I didn’t embarrass the Other Half.

But now the Other Half isn’t around, and he wouldn’t be embarrassed if I just said exactly what I thought.

You see, even after I stopped going to the events hosted by the Other Half’s friends, the drunk elitist simply turned his venom on my Other Half. Within a year or two my Other Half stopped accepting invitations to their parties as well. I don’t think my Other Half had seen this group of old friends for at least 4 perhaps 5 years.

It might be cathartic, hell it might just be dang fun to inflict pain on someone that offended me and my other half on so many occasions. I can’t decide if ignoring this particular bloviating asshole or confronting him directly and brutally would be the best path. I think I’ll have to make that decision on the fly if I decide to go to this event in the first place.

It will probably be the last time I see any of these people and as such… Well I might as well go out with a bang!

I would like to spend time with the hosts and at least one if not two of the other guys. If it becomes too much I can leave. Since I’ll be alone I won’t have to worry about forcing the Other Half to cut the evening short.

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It’s the wadded up sinuses, time of year

Everything is in bloom, including some native plants here that I haven’t seen in a while due to the drought.

This means during the day I’m pretty much okay. I can breathe with only a few sneezing events.

At night I get to sleep okay, then an insidious thing happens. One half my sinuses clog, then I roll over and the other half clogs, and by 2am I’m a full on mouth breather.

I know this because I wake up with my mouth dry as Death Valley and thirsty as a man in the Sahara.

Apparently my snoring disturbs the dog. He’s part of the reason that I wake up. He’ll hit me with a paw, or try to see where in my throat the snoring sounds are coming from. It’s disconcerting to have a dog who thinks he’s an Ear, Nose, and Throat Doctor.

He’s also the kettle calling the pot black. He snores, barks, and farts his way through the night. Sometimes he howls like a wolf in the dead of night and he’s completely asleep dreaming.

Did you know that there’s still a hard wired response in the human brain to wake up fully alert in fight or flight mode when we hear that sound close by?

I didn’t until I found myself waking up in a standing position on the bed, with a baseball bat in hand, and my back against the wall.

I see the dog looking at me in the darkness as though I was the insane one. My instinctive flurry of activity disturbed his slumber.

Since that night, I’ve heard him howl several times. He’ll be laying on his side twitching as though he’s dreaming then he’ll arch his back and howl. Usually by the time he gets to that point I’m by his side calling his name, gently stroking his ear or side. He’ll come to, look around very confused then snuggle against me. I’ll wait until he’s asleep again and then lie back down.

I don’t know what he’s dreaming about. I gather that he’s scared and lost in his dream based on the howl.

This is a new thing. It started happening over the last few months. Perhaps in response to the death of the other half.

We, the dog and I, just returned from a walk.

There’s a remote possibility that we’ll get some rain today. It’s cloudy right now but I think it’s all a big tease. If we were to get some rain It might clear the various pollens from the air but I’d bet that a day after the rain it’ll be worse. The added water will hit just when the little plants can use the boost to go full flower adding their unique pollen to the mix already blowing around.

At which point, I’ll be sleeping in a gas mask…

This time of heavy flower / weed pollen only lasts a few weeks. I don’t have a lot of trouble during this part of the year. I have trouble when the pine tree pollen blows around so thick it’s a yellow mist. Everything is covered in yellow dust and my sinuses feel like they’re filled with concrete. That time of year is yet to come. I think it’s going to be a doozy this year, I could be wrong, but with all the water in the ground, I’m betting the pines will be making up for the drought years.

For any of you humans who may be semen-phobic… I remind you that’s essentially what pollen is, so you’re already covered in, and breathing semen.

I’m sure some folks have just decided to live the rest of their lives in a hazmat suit.

Just to make you phobic folks truly miserable, remember why W.C. Fields didn’t drink water…

“Fish fuck in it.”

So there goes your option to run into the bathrooms and bathe.

Ahh, My work here is done!

Have a great day.

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Today is gonna be hard

It’s taken me a while to get the harp consignment lined up. I thought it was never going to come together but now that it’s here, I’m uncertain.

I know that I need to get the harps into the right hands so that they can go to new homes. The harps should be played, loved, used, and bring joy to others.

That being said, they were a big part of his life they were also part of my life to a lesser extent.

The harps defined him. To be without them, feels like letting go of him.

I know this is the right thing to do, but it’s going to be hard.

Wish me luck.

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One of those days

I can’t get focused. I’ve been trying, but thoughts appear and vanish before they’ve fully formed.

I’ve been dreaming a lot. I have no memory what those dreams were, I only remember waking up in the dark to a concerned puppy face sniffing me. He insists on sniffing both of my ears before allowing us to go back to sleep.

I don’t know what that is about but it’s become ritual.

After the sniffs, he’ll lay down with his head on my chest or a paw on me. It’s almost as if he’s saying, “You’re not alone”

I’m fairly certain that the dreams are bad ones. I base that on the expression the dog has. It’s his “What is your problem,” expression. So I may be talking or shouting in my sleep.

On the plus side I’m only waking the dog. On the down side when I get ready to sleep with someone, or have someone else in the house I’ll have to warn them to wear ear plugs.

There’s a lot I should be doing but it’s warm, and the sun is shining, I may put off some of those things I should be doing for another day.

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The best laid plans…

The tail spin I’ve been in for the past few months is starting to be… less spinney. I’m not out of the spin yet, not by a long shot, but I’m getting better.

I had a plan for our retirement. A plan for what I wanted to do. I pictured us having a small home, with a lawn. I pictured actually having to own a lawn mower for the first time in my life. I’d even been shopping for mowers I might want. I pictured puttering around in a garden, and the two of us enjoying warm days with friends. Nice barbecues, dog walks and quiet times. Most of all I pictured having a mailbox. A “real” address and the joy of not having to worry about how something was being sent to me, because there was only one address to worry about. 

Yellow houseThese are small things. When you haven’t had them for most of your adult life they attain outsized importance.

I saw us enjoying hobbies and interests we’d not had the time to pursue because our jobs were always in the way. We always wanted to travel, we envied those of our friends who made traveling a priority and found the money to afford to do it. We always thought we’d have time. “Once we retire,” we’d say to each other.

I know this is an idealized view, and the reality of our retirement wouldn’t have been quite so… idyllic? Bucolic? But I thought that I’d be able to hammer some part of it out for us, even if it was only for a few years. 

Now, all that is changed. That’s what put me into the tailspin in the first place, aside from the shock, then learning that my other half had made no provisions for his demise.

You’d think I’d be mad, but I gotta say, “Good one babe, ya left me holding the bag!” 

I find myself wondering what now? What next?

I’m still here, the dog is still here, there’s still a small home with a patch of grass out there somewhere. There’s still barbecue, beer, warm days, mild winters, dog walks, and laughs. It’ll just be me and the dog doing all those things by ourselves. The dog is generally good company so that’s a plus. 

One distant acquaintance told me I’d meet someone else. She was attempting to tell me there was a future. She has no sense of boundaries, or decorum, and didn’t know that I’d long ago decided that I wasn’t going to “get hitched” again. I might not even date. I might simply decide that scratching a certain itch is best done in a way that ends with me saying, “Your money is on the counter, now please leave.” There is an interest on my part to “ordering from a catalog,” so to speak. I suspect that is cheaper than dinner & drinks, and I don’t have to be deafened by bar music.

I’ve decided that moving is best for me in the long run. Where I live now is a beautiful place, I have a view that I enjoy very much. But time is catching up with me, I don’t do as well in the winters as I used to. I’ve concluded it’s time for me to take the hint. I think I should go in search of the patch of grass and a mailbox that I’d fantasized about so often.

As I’ve looked at other places to live and the houses available, I’ve discovered that I like either brand new houses or I like really old houses. 1944 and before generally. I suppose it’s because those houses seem to have a lot of character. I know that is sometimes another way of saying they’re a money pit but some of the pictures of these older homes are very nice. The newer houses seem to have a lot of conveniences. 

I’ll have to adjust my visualization down to one chair on the porch but I’m working on that.

The mornings here are getting warmer, I’ve been taking my coffee and iPad out on the back deck to enjoy the quiet of the morning and scan the daily follies of the “Adults” in Washington. The dog likes it because he can watch the world and keep an eye on me at the same time.

I guess the lesson learned is plans and dreams change.