I’ve had a wonderful day.  The sun was out again and I went out and started cleaning up the front beds.  All kinds of stuff is coming up and I can’t wait to see what I’ve got here.  I went for a bike ride, too.  I was telling drunkpunches  how sometimes I can’t remember if I’ve mentioned something and that with friends now I find myself prefacing with “have I told you this?”  Anyway, I’ve always wanted to live where I could ride out my front door and now I can. I couldn’t remember if I told you about this:  I can go down my street and there is a bike path that goes all the way to the river and it even loops around.  Once I go a few more times it will seem like the perfect distance.  It’s just one more reason why I’m glad I’m living here.

I’m going to tear myself away from Xanga and go finish up my 1,000 words.

Class went great tonight.  I think it helped that when the teacher left the room I said something about how I felt bad after the last class, like we had gotten away from positive comments and focused too much on the negative.  It was a kinder, gentler class tonight.

And the pieces were better.  People wrote some really personal stuff.  A meth addict read something she’d written while in rehab and then a follow-up piece about where she was now with it.  It was two different people.

It was cold here, in Portland, but the sun blazed all day long.  Since I was over there, I decided to take the puppy to my old trail in the woods. I agreed to drive the youngest to school and pick her up because her dad went on the same ski vacation I wrote about.  He took his girlfriend.  That’s starting to bug me, can you tell?  I’m not sure why.

Anyway, it was HEAVEN being back in those woods, like I got back a little piece of the old me.  Those were hard times so you wouldn’t think I’d want that back.  It was a simpler life then, just focusing on my health, and when I was in the woods I would be so grateful.  So it almost seemed frivolous today, tromping through there with the puppy. 

I decided to keep her on the leash the whole time and just go a short ways.  It was frustrating to her so I stopped and let her off.  I figured it would be okay if I didn’t move, like it wasn’t part of the walk.  I don’t think I should let her off the leash any more at the river, so I’ve decided to take the dogs one at a time.  I’ve never had a dog like this.  When she was off the leash she never went more than 20 feet away from me.  She just ran in circles until she got tired and putting her back on the leash was no problem.  This is probably boring but I worry about the right way to go about this training thing.  Like if you let the dog walk in front of you once, you’re never gonna get them back to a heel. 

That’s how I was with my kids.  It seemed easier, I don’t know if it was right.  I’d make a rule and never deviate from it so as to avoid future negotiating.

 

Sorry about leading you on.  As Lionne was quick to notice I wrote 800-page instead of the 800-word story.  So that was it.  And I gather you couldn’t see the card so here I thought I was all good and, really, it was ….I don’t know, I’m having a down kind-of-a night.  And I’m not sure why.  I feel like either I want to go get another little airplane bottle of Jack Daniels or some more of those chocolates or maybe both.  Or maybe go see another movie.  I wonder what’s wrong with me that I want to escape.  Oh, somebody’s here bye

I am feeling much better, having consumed the entire box of chocolates I just picked out for myself.  If figures that there is a candy store just down the street.  So handy. 

Feeling more festive, even though I don’t have a lover in my life now, I can celebrate romance with a story.  We are to write a 800-word story for class, something about Flash Fiction.  I thought it would be hard, and I did have to go through and take a lot out, but I made it work.  It’s silly but fun.

Hurricane Charley

 

They met at the shelter.  He fled his yacht, where he lived half the year, and she fled her condo, on the water.  They were from very different worlds, living half a mile away from each other.

 

She was sexy, 45, and single.  Lenore had bought the condo and moved to Florida after the divorce.  They’d never had kids so it was an easy move.  Her family was from Florida so it was the obvious move; she went back home.  She’d found a job in property management.  That’s how she could afford the rent, it was included. Looking around, she noticed most of the condo residents were here, as well.  They were retirees for the most part, many of them widowed.  They seemed to want to look to her for help but this was the weekend she was off-duty.

 

Larry had his yacht moored on the cheap side of the island, and today he was glad he did.  It took less of a hit from the hurricane that slammed into the west side of the island.  Nonetheless, he had gotten the hell outta there and come to a safe, dry place, even if it was the last place on earth he wanted to be.  When you walked in the door you were greeted with a plastic bag.  In it were a plastic spoon and fork, a plastic cup, and some toilettes.  You were to find a cot and place on it whatever belongings you’d brought, reserving it.  The place was filling up fast. 

 

She’d stood in line behind him, cracking everyone up with a joke.  Times like these he was always grateful for someone with a sense of humor.  All these old people were frantic.  She’d followed him over and taken the cot next to him.

 

“Well, here we are at camp!  Are these our utensils for the weekend?” she wonders.

 

“At least that implies there will be food,” he says, sounding relieved.  “How do you suppose they’re going to produce food for all these people?  Maybe have it catered?”

 

She laughed.  By now they were sitting on their respective cots, facing each other.  He put his hand out.

 

“I’m Larry.  And it looks as though I’m your neighbor for the duration of this hurricane.”

 

“Hi, I’m Lenore.  I hope you don’t mind but I followed you over here wanting to be on the other end of the room from the people in my condo.  They seem to think I’m going to take care of them.  So if I act real friendly it’s because one of them is approaching.  Is that okay?”

 

“Of course.  How well do we know each other?” he asks, grinning slyly.

 

Lenore’s laugh is more like a snort. “And I thought you looked safe.”

 

“Aww you’re safe with me, kid.”

 

“Uh-oh, here comes Mr. Standish.”

 

“Is this my cue?” he asks, crossing over to sit on her cot.

 

“Hi, Mr. Standish.  This is my friend, Larry.”

 

“How do you do, Larry.  I was going to invite Lenore over so she wouldn’t have to eat all alone but I see she’s with you.”

 

Larry puts his arm around Lenore and gives her a little peck on the cheek.  “Yes, she’s safe and sound with me.”

 

Lenore giggles nervously and Mr. Standish goes back to the others.

 

“Okay, that was convincing.”

 

Mmmm she smells good.  “That’s the closest I’ve been to a lady in a while.”

 

“What’s ‘a while’?”

 

He fidgets on the cot.  “Too long.”

 

Right about now, they’re the only two in the room and they’re waiting for dark.

 

Dinner, in fact, was brought in. Vats of soup and loaves of bread were delivered and they quickly get in line. 

 

“Now I know how the bums feel,” he says under his breath.

 

“Except we don’t have to worry about catching anything,” she adds, accidentally bumping him.

 

They are sitting on the same cot, hip to hip, getting accustomed to the feel of each other. 

 

Slowly savoring the soup and the excuse to sit close, they are each fantasizing about how the night will play out.  Some of the families are pushing cots together and he suggests they do the same.

 

Men are handing out blankets and when they get to Lenore they ask, “One or two?”

 

She hesitates but Larry says, “One.” 

 

They smooth the blanket over the two cots and get in line to use the bathroom.  He gets back first and climbs under the covers, taking his pants off under the blanket. She returns and is already wearing a nighty.  The robe goes under her head as a pillow. His cot is on the end and the man next to her is snoring.  As she turns to say goodnight, he reaches for her under the blanket. She feels his lips on hers as his arms pull her close.

 

By morning, he was hers.

PS  You can thank brendaclews  for the picture.

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!!!!!!!  It’s an absolutely gorgeous, sunny day.  I know, why am I sitting here?  Brenda was kind enough to send me the html and how to — Well, you saw the instructions.  I did them and all I got was a square with an X in it.  So I sent her the card as an email.  I give up.

Since I’m here I’ll tell you about my walk with T.  She finally comes over here and tells me all the stuff I have to do to the house.  She’s just giving me shit but my daughter’s here and they start talking about how they’ll just do it, the two of them, this weekend.  You know, get a sledge hammer and start in on the downstairs bathroom. 

Well, I know it’s bad, but the market’s down and I don’t want to sell any stock.  And I don’t want to try and refinance until I have a job because I’ll get a better rate.  So I’m on hold. 

Then T and I go for a walk.  I wanted to show her my new discovery down by the river.  Well, of course she loves it and we are on the pretty side.  She says, “It’s like we’re in a different state.”  And that’s just what I thought the first time I saw it.  There are benches placed here and there once you get close to the water.  The trail winds down to the water’s edge and then back up to the bridge.  In between that is a big, grassy, picnic area but with only one table.   Then we make our way across the bridge, where I’d seen the rolled-up sleeping bag and broken bike a couple days ago. We go a little further and her pulled muscle starts to hurt so we turn back.  There’s a guy standing by the bridge, and she says, “Do you have anything with you, any mace?” 

I say, “No.”  The guy looks harmless to me but she starts talking about how all these guys on meth will do anything to get high.  How they’ll kill somebody for ten bucks.  Her husband defends a lot of drug addicts I guess.  He’s real paranoid and maybe that’s why it’s taken so long to get her over here.  She said next time we’ll take the bikes.  I don’t know, it just made me feel like she’d ruined something beautiful.

I came home and told my oldest who was still here.  She said, “What do you expect.  That’s what everyone thinks.”  I can’t figure out if I’m nuts or they’re nuts.  And Lionne, if you’re reading this, it’s Milwaukie, but where I’m talking about is south from there.

 

 

 

I just tried to copy and paste a card I made last Valentine’s day.  I designed it myself.  Well, maybe I had a little help.  But between my youngest and I, it turned out really well.  You’ll have to take my word for it.

She’s in the bathroom piercing her cartillage as she calls it.  So now she has dreads and when she comes out of the bathroom she’ll have five earings all together, all on the ears so far.  Her Dad’s gonna be upset but she doesn’t think he’ll notice.

She went online and bought a kit so now she does all the kids at school.  That’s how she …she just came out.   

Before I forget, I want to welcome:         
janedivided
Anam
dancing_pen
soonaquitter
aplgwest

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When I was married, the girls and I would get Van Dyne chocolates in a red heart-shaped box, with a pretty ribbon.  Mine was huge.  Not being much of a chocolate person then, it always made me a little sad.  Now I would be thrilled to see that box.

I had back-to-back fun a couple days ago and now it’s just me and the animals, and somehow the house feels too big and empty.  I went up to my closet around 9:00 last night and tried to will myself to put something nice on and get in my car but I just couldn’t do it.

I wish the sun would come back out and I could start gardening.  I wish my friend T would wake up and we could go to coffee.  I guess this is why it’s good to have a Valentine.

 

 

Yesterday was the perfect day.  Anthony and I were able to walk after lunch without coats, the sun was shining so hard.

He was an hour late, which is one of the things I love about him:  he’s like me.  Because it’s a two-hour drive to get to each other’s houses the time we plan on and the time we leave are never the same.  And I do so much better with people who are flexible about time.

I’m still not sure why he came.  It appears he just wanted to see me.  I love being with him but now that he has a girlfriend it’s a little strange not to take his arm when we’re on a walk.  At lunch he wanted to know if I was wearing a wig.  I’d taken that extra hour to blow-dry my hair and put makeup on.  W would have said, “You look different.”  Anthony said, “You look really good.” 

And I suspect that’s the reason he came:  to see if I’ve metastasized.  He doesn’t remember my youngest one’s name but he remembers exactly how old she is.  It’s almost like he’s waiting.  When we were dating — And that’s misleading because we weren’t having sex – I had just started chemo.  I remember the phone call.

It’s Melissa and she’s having lunch with Anthony, an old boyfriend of hers.  

Me:  “Hi, whose phone is this?”

Melissa:  “Anthony’s.  You remember me talking about the guy who lives at the Beach?  Well, actually he lives in Utah.”

Me:  “Oh, yeah.” 

Melissa:  “He wants to meet you.  So why don’t you come over.  We’re at Chili’s.”

Me:  “Wow, your timing is perfect.  I just got back from getting my hair done.  You won’t even recognize me.  It’s falling out so fast I had her cut it all off.  It looks pretty stylish though.”

Melissa:  “So come on over.”

Me:  “Did you tell him about the cancer?”

Melissa:  “No.  Why should I?  Hurry up.”

Me:  “Okay, but before I get there you need to tell him what the deal is.”

Melissa:  “Okay, bye.” 

And I could see when I got there she hadn’t.  But once I got a look at him I was kind of glad she didn’t.  Great hair, great eyes, perfect clothes, funny, smart, extremely kind, and very human.  The only thing was his mouth.  It didn’t look good.  It didn’t look weak.  And it wasn’t until I knew him better that I figured it out.  Bad things came out of his mouth sometimes and that’s why it looked that way.  He’s a litigator and he tells lies.  He doesn’t think of them as lies.  He thinks it’s creating a different slant on things, just like my ex. 

What I liked most about him was that he had a similar attitude towards life.  He had recently been operated on for a benign tumor at the base of his skull, right where it meets the spinal chord.  He was extremely lucky to be walking.  He had a lot of residual problems with neuropathy, which I started having when I took taxol.  We shared the same joy for life and didn’t sweat the small stuff.  He was the person who made the biggest difference in shaping my recovery. 

He was my life coach.  He called me every day to check on me.  He knew about stocks and he owned a title company so he advised me about the market and helped me buy my first house.  Actually Melissa and I bought that first house together.  She found it for me.  This is the realtor friend I don’t see any more.  This is getting too long.  Later.