Never a dull moment … sort of

Just when you think life is going to keep rolling along with no wrinkles, you wake up to another rainy day. No worries. Seasonal Affective Disorder is really just a myth, right? If I keep telling myself that, I might start to believe it.

Back to the story …

Driving to work yesterday—rain pouring down like it has absolutely nothing else better to do—my windshield wipers decided to take a rest. Yep, they got stuck. Wouldn’t move. Wouldn’t go swish-swish-swish. Just about when I started to panic (driving 60 miles an hour on a two lane road in pouring rain with no windshield wipers is enough to panic this girl), the rain eased off to a fine mist. I could see through that pretty easy so managed to get to work with no bumps, no dents, and no angry motorists along the way.

My boss is one of the most understanding people I know. When I told him I needed to leave as soon as the rain stopped so I could get my wipers fixed, he didn’t even blink, just said okay and be safe. He is a jewel.

Back to story, again …

So, I take care of some work that I really needed to do and head out to get the wipers to swipe.

It took an hour and a half for the service rep to tell me the wipers work fine. Nothing wrong. All is well, no charge. I thank him kindly, get in the car, start the ignition, and turn on the wipers—it had started to rain again.

What did the wipers do? Did they work? Nope, they got stuck at 2:00 o’clock.

I hadn’t even left the parking lot so drove right back into the service bay and showed them the wipers wouldn’t wipe. Two and a half hours later, I need a new wiper motor and they can have one in by Tuesday. It was Friday. So, three-plus days of no wipers, in rainy old winter.

I love being at home.

I hate being stuck at home.

Adding insult to injury (wiper motor = big bite into budget), I no longer have an excuse to not clean my house.

In other words, bored out of my gourd.



Regrets and reprieves

Ever wonder about what might have been?  I don’t very often but in the last few weeks have indulged in a romanticized trip down memory lane.

A friend from college recently mentioned via Facebook that a mutual friend from back then wasn’t doing very well. You see, the mutual friend was tucked way back in a cubbyhole in my brain as “the one that got away.” It’s a really long story and I won’t torture you with the details except to say that I always thought it was my own fault. I’ve carried around regret for years and, from time to time, wondered what might have been—until my friend and I took our conversation offline (yes, people do still have conversations outside of Facebook) and I learned more.

You see, I’ve always believed in fate, that things happen for a reason. Maybe not the things I want, much less the reason I want them, or when for that matter, but there is always a reason. As a result, I’ve pretty much strolled through life going with gut instinct. I learned early on that over-thinking big decisions leads me down the wrong path. Doesn’t matter what the decision is about. Whether it’s to pick up and move across the country or what color car to buy, if I over think it, it does not work out well for me. (I still, to this day, can’t fathom why I bought that gray car. I hated it. I hate gray. Yet, it seemed like such a good idea at the time.)

I digress.

Hearing more about our friend, and how he’s conducted his life, brought an end to my little excursion down memory lane. You see, it turns out that if the “one that got away” hadn’t, I would have gotten what I wanted at the time, but would have regretted it year after year after year. That regretful reality would have been so much worse that my regretful “what might have been” illusion.

Which leads me to reprieve.

From where I sit now, it looks like that fateful day, regretful though it was at the time, was my reprieve from a lifetime of disillusion.

Moving forward

This happy camper’s big decision today is whether to go with dusting first or running the vacuum. H-m-m-m, my gut says read my new book.


A week full of blessings!

I started the week on Sunday with my lovely daughter who took me to a birthday brunch then to a movie. She is the sweetest girl on the planet!

Monday brought me a milestone birthday (not tellin’ which one) and lunch with my baby sister. She gave me the coolest gift! Then, it was a quick trip to the Apple store where I gave myself an iPad, followed by a wonderful evening making art with my sister.

Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday — back to work for this old girl.

Then, Friday comes around and the lovely jensinewall and the effervescent as long as I’m singing each sent me a One Lovely Blog Award.

Gotta’ tell you folks, life just doesn’t get much better. All I need now is about a pound of chocolate and a really good foot massage and I’m all set.

Okay, enough about me, on to the award rules!

This award(s) requires sharing 7 facts about yourself and nominating 15 co-bloggers you love and want to make happy with a well deserved token of gratitude. Here goes …

The facts …

  • I see a turkey neck in my future and I don’t like it!
  • I’ve never been to Spain but I think I’d like it there if, of course, it rains mainly on the plain.
  • I like squash, just about any way you want to cook it.
  • Lightning bugs make me smile.
  • I think that, for many of us, family is a love hate relationship.
  • I’m pretty sure that all the world’s problems could be solved if thinking about them involved a rocking chair or a porch swing.
  • I’m tickled pink that Dallas is back on TV and I already miss Mad Men.

The blogs I nominate for the One Lovely Blog Award …


All of the above are lovely blogs and I hope you’ll visit each and every one of them and will enjoy them as much as I do.

Try as I might, I just don’t get it!

There are some things in this world that just confound me. You know the kind of things I mean, for example:

Why is it that you always have a great hair day the day you have an appointment to get it cut?

Why does a neighbor always drop in on days when you really just want to be alone?

Why is it raining when you come out of the movie theater even though it was sunny when you went in and no rain was predicted?

Why do you always get stuck behind somebody going 10-15 miles under the speed limit only on the days when you’re late for work?

Why is there no such thing as a perfectly made new car, or new appliance, or new electronic device, or new anything for that matter?

Why does my cat Emmie always (and yes, I mean always) toss her cookies on my bed’s newly washed coverlet?

And why, for the love of all God‘s creatures, is it that March 2012 is the warmest March on record but April 2012 is as chilly and dreary as it can get?

Done with the whyning.


… thanks for listening!

Sole Mates (No, it’s not about shoes.)

It’s been said that there is a lid for every pot. I’m convinced, though, that some of us are better suited to being lidless.

When I was younger — much younger — I thought that finding that one person on the planet that fills the void of your other half was simple. You go out. You meet a lot of people. You pick one. Or, one picks you. In my twenties, I went out, I met a lot of people, and some picked me. Four to be exact.

The first was a friend from college who, after a car wreck, moved back home to recuperate. I was the designated letter writer who kept him up-to-date on all the happenings within our group. He read more into those letters, though, than I intended and came back to town about a year later with a diamond solitaire and “plans.” I was clueless. So, what did I do? I ran like hell.

The second was a coworker who, though at the time married to someone else, proposed every few months. I thought we were just friends — not so much as a hug between us – but he seemed to think we were “meant” for each other or some such nonsense. My first instinct, again, was to run, but that’s hard to do when you work in the same place. Fortunately for me, my family decided to move to another state and, yep, I packed fast. A couple of years later we moved back to my hometown. By then, he was divorced and just kept on proposing. I finally started taking him seriously. He disappeared shortly thereafter, started dating someone else and was married eight months later. Some soul mate!

The third one, also from my college days, was and still is an enigma to me. We had a sort of off-and-on love-hate relationship. He proposed when I least expected it — he was in one room and I was in another. His proposal came across like a rhetorical question so I gave him a rhetorical answer. He stormed out and the next day, gave me a piece of his mind — for about twenty minutes. Never saw anyone so mad in my life. Still not sure what all happened there but still one of the few regrets I have.

The fourth one, I married. Shouldn’t have but no regrets with this one. I have a wonderful daughter who is the light of my life.

So why am I rambling on about all this? Well, lately I’ve felt like something is missing. I’ve had 24 years of post-divorce peace and contentment and, for the most part, happiness. And yet, I feel sort of empty sometimes. My child is off on her own now so maybe it’s just empty nest syndrome. I don’t know. I just know that sometimes, something really neat happens that I’d like to share and there’s no one here to share it with. No one that really gets me. I guess that’s the price I pay for once upon a time being young and stupid and fickle.

Maybe it’s for the best. Not all of us are destined to find the lid to their pot. Some of us are probably better suited to being their own sole mate. (Aren’t puns grand!)

I think for me, though, it boils down to not being able to give or be what the fellas I’ve known seem to want — a terminally sweet, utterly speechless, mammary-blessed*, sex-starved, totally subservient, house maid who likes to cook.

Was that me just being pissy? Hmmm.

*Thanks for the reminder, Kate!