2018/10/20

Blackout

Da Goddess @ 12:14

Sorry for the blackout. Demonic code was the culprit. It’s probably a good thing it happened when it did because I was in a dark place, too, and you’d have been subjected to RANTS.

Of the many causes for my personal darkness, the kavanaugh debacle was one of the worst. It triggered several very traumatic memories, most of which I’ve written about before. That this man now sits on the Supreme Court is heartbreaking for many thousands of sexual assault survivors. That there are elected officials — WOMEN — who helped make it happen makes me want to vomit, even weeks later.

The only regret I have about this unintentional blackout is not being able to celebrate Little Dude’s birthday on the blog. L.D. just turned 22. For those who’ve been here from the beginning, it’s kinda shocking, isn’t it? He was 6 when I started blogging. Actually, 5½, but still, he was YOUNG! Now he’s a grown man who owns a truck, works hard at a job he enjoys, and he’s even more than I could have ever hope for all those years ago when he first arrived. His kindness, generosity, intelligence, and humor are still intact and I’m 100% proud of who he is. I’m grateful to be able to declare him my favorite son.

As I go about trying to catch up with everything, I’ll work on posting some of the writing I was doing offline. And I’ll try to update you with what’s happening in my wretched existence. (It’s not all dark, I promise.)

Sending out hugs to all of you… except that guy in the corner. No hugs for him.

2018/08/20

Monday Musings

Da Goddess @ 00:01

We all judge ourselves by what we deem effortless by other people. It’s terribly unfair to ourselves and terribly unfair to those whose work or lives we admire.

Chris Addison wrote the best post about this very subject and I can’t think of a single thing to add to it. It’s brilliant as is.

Another thought: if you admire what someone else has created, let them know. Even if they never get your message, be it spoken or written or whatever, your thoughts add to the power and energy of goodness in the universe. We need that more and more every day.

2018/08/16

Thursday Thoughts

Da Goddess @ 00:01

“Every popsicle is a race against time” ~ Lin-Manuel Miranda

Ain’t that the truth?

From the same Twitter thread:

“Live each day like it’s a popsicle in summer” ~ Blake Severson

I’m telling you, Twitter has been a life-saver this year.

2018/08/04

Yes!

Da Goddess @ 22:49

Talked with my big sister on the phone today. First time since her stroke. Her progress is remarkable! C’s speech is still slow, but it’s clear and that’s an amazing accomplishment. So many stroke patients don’t get back to even 50%.

Thank you for all your prayers! C still has a ways to go before she’s where she wants to be, but for me, this is a miracle and I will never not be grateful for her surviving this and for your support.

2018/07/29

Down the Toilet

Da Goddess @ 08:44

If you’ve read the Secret Squirrel post ( because you know where the password can be found [it hasn’t changed location or the actual word]), then you’ll need to cleanse your palate. I might have just the thing for you.

Why is it that I can sometimes use almost an entire roll of toilet paper in one sitting and have no problem with the flush, but other times I barely use any and the toilet requires double plunging?

I’m sure it has more to do with the crappy (pun intended) plumbing than it does my bathroom needs/habits. But, y’know I had to put the question out there.

2018/07/17

Finding Room

Da Goddess @ 17:41

I keep trying to find room for my grief and everything else in my life. It’s almost as if I have to choose between them.

Of course, my pain issues are also trying to hog the spotlight and I’m exhausted from all the juggling.

Weariness doesn’t even come close to what I feel. Emotionally and physically, I’m depleted. I have no spoons* for anything beyond getting up to go to the bathroom, making toast, and feeding the cat. Showering is necessary, but it’s at a respectable 4th or 5th on my list. I just don’t have any gas left in the tank.

I wonder when and/or how any of this is going to change.

* Spoon theory states that you have a spoon (representing energy) for every task you perform throughout the day. However, you only have a certain number of spoons available per 24 hour period. For people with chronic illnesses, pain, or disabilities you often have to use more spoons to accomplish a simple task. Sometimes you borrow from tomorrow, but you never know what the consequences of doing that will be. For instance, Dad’s memorial took almost all my spoons for that day and some from the day after. The next day, I was stuck in bed, unable to move without great effort and pain. Too much standing and moving around. Try assigning 15 spoons to all your most important activities in a single day. Anything requiring more effort gets more than one spoon.

…..

…..

…..

How’d that work for you? Now add in grief and anxiety. It’s taxing, to say the least.

2018/07/14

My New Motto

Da Goddess @ 23:04

From Paula Pell:

I’m gonna hang on to hope like a cat on a fucking lace curtain. Wild eyed, fully aware that it will eventually be okay.

That about sums up everything.

2018/06/26

I’ll Whisper Softly

Da Goddess @ 00:01

Twelve years ago he left us.

I miss him still.

I keep thinking of all the people I’ve met who would have loved him. They might not have agreed with everything he said, but they would have enjoyed the way he said it.

I miss you, Rob. I hope your spirit is at peace these days.

2018/05/27

Memorial Day Weekend 2018

Da Goddess @ 11:59

I still very much miss the days when Little Dude and I walked Ft. Rosecrans, placing flags before the graves of those who served our country, be they military or military dependents. I miss the sight of all the scouts who were swarming the cemetery doing the same thing. I miss the time LD and I had after everyone else had left, time we used to explore, learn, remember, and revere those who not only answered the call to serve but gave all.

There is nothing as sobering as the sight of waves of headstones upon the sea of grass too vivid for the somber reflection taking place. But, perhaps, the grass really should be that green so there’s no mistaking the pale, bleached bone-white gravemarkers. Azure skies, searing green hills, white-as-bone gardens of stone. It’s haunting and humbling.

One could easily forget Memorial Day is more than a long weekend of BBQ, friends, and relaxation. Many do. I don’t. I know you, dear reader, don’t. Even so, I still need to post a reminder — as much for myself as for others. I need to remember. I WANT to remember. Those who gave themselves for this notion of freedom, of democracy, deserve our attention. It’s the simplest manner of honoring what they did and what we have.

____________

Another reminder of that for which our military fought, two stories of the realities of war. We were fortunate here in the US that our parents and grandparents weren’t evacuated, didn’t have to endure bombings as happened in England and Europe. They did, however, fear it could happen. So, read the two links above and join me in a moment of silence as I thank our military for fighting so hard to keep the war from our shores during WWII.

____________

Memorial Day Ft. Rosecrans, San Diego

ON ROSECRANS HILL
by Jeffrey T. Naas

On Rosecrans hill the grasses grow
Between the headstones row on row
That mark our place as in the sky
The gulls, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard against the surf below

We are the dead. Not long ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunsets glow
We chose for freedom’s cause to die
And now upon this hill we lie
As grasses green above us grow

We knew the price we had to pay
To keep the enemy at bay
We gave our all, we fought the fight
To keep aglow sweet freedom’s light
Remember this, we ask today

One thing we ask of those not slain
Will you fight on for freedom’s reign?
If war returns, as it well might
Will you take up the gallant fight?
Yes, answer us! You who remain

And so we lie here, asking still
If you, our sons, will have the will
To sacrifice as we did then
That your sons, too, may live free men
As we wait still, on Rosecrans hill

2018/05/25

Comfort Found

Da Goddess @ 14:27

In my search for comfort and a sense of peace, I came across a link on Twitter leading to a lovely blog. I’ll include a link to the story that first hooked me later this weekend, but until then, please go visit this lovely woman’s site.

Mom update: she’s resting at hospital, receiving antibiotics and breathing treatments to ease her respiratory effort. The plan is to keep her there a few days and see what happens at that point. If the doctors don’t feel there will be any hope for improvement over time, she’s planned on comfort measures and not much else according to my sister. Understandable, but still makes my heart fall deep in my belly. I’m really not prepared for this at the moment as I’m struggling to keep up with the grief over Dad. We shall see. It’s not in my hands. God will bless us with the right course as He sees fit. That’s pretty much all we need, isn’t it?

2018/05/18

52 — The Full Deck

Da Goddess @ 00:01

I’m 52 years old. Five. Two. A full deck. Or am I the “fool” deck? Sometimes it does seem like I’ve been given that role. But, nah. I think I’m falling into the positive camp this year. Despite all the ups and downs, I’m glad I’m here. Even if I am a bit worse for wear.

Technically, I hit “over-the-hill” a good while back. Emotionally, I think 39 was that year. Physically, ugh. I don’t know when it happened (maybe 2005 when I got hurt?). All I know is that none of it matters because I’m still hanging in here and that needs to be celebrated!

I’m not sure how I’ll celebrate, but it might include cake. It’ll probably include cake. Okay, cake will be involved. Are you happy? Yes, cake. One of the few pleasures you can share with as few or as many people as you’d like and not get side-eye for doing so. Except maybe from your doctor who’s worried about your weight and your blood sugar. But if you don’t tell, I won’t tell, m’kay?

52. If I were a deck of cards I’d be complete. Unless you want to play pinochle or canasta or some game requiring an expanded deck. But if that’s the case, why haven’t you invited me over for a game? Fair warning, I suck at pinochle and kick ass at canasta! You’ve been warned.

Go grab some cake and we can eat at the same time. I’ll be here. Just pull up a chair when you’re ready.

2018/05/16

(bitter) Sweet Sixteen

Da Goddess @ 00:01

As of today, I’ve been blogging for 16 years.

There have always been rough patches during this time, but this year takes the cake with my dad dying. And yet… when I posted about it here I got texts, emails, phone calls, and comments. They’ve been instrumental in helping me get through the grief and helped me see there’s more left to learn from Dad than could be taught during his lifetime. Thank you, my friends. Without this blog, I’d have never met you and you’ve all made my life richer, Fuller, and definitely more interesting.

Thanks for sticking around, for coming back, for just being your unique selves!

16…that’s, like 50 in human years, isn’t it?

2018/05/13

First a Word From Your Host(ess)

Da Goddess @ 01:47

I took a break from posting about Dad’s death because I needed to. I have lots more to say, you can bet on it, but between being exhausted (physically and emotionally) and feeling like maybe this was becoming all Dad all the time, it’s a necessity.

I’ll be back to talk more about the grieving process I’m going through, how I see others coping, etc. I’m just going to keep a little of this to myself for now.

Thanks for all the kind words in comments, emails, and texts. You’ve warmed my heart and helped ease my soul.

2018/05/03

Insert Witty Title Here

Da Goddess @ 09:06

Compose compelling, funny, insightful post here.

Let me know when you’re done, m’kay? Thanks. Byyyye!

2018/02/04

Gold Medal Head Jumping

Da Goddess @ 05:36

If head jumping were an Olympic sport, Fletch would have a bazillion gold medals.

He loves to jump up next to me at around 04:15 every morning, sniff at my face, and then leap over my head, running away furiously after.

This is his way of saying he’s ready for breakfast. Breakfast isn’t served until 06:00.

When he doesn’t get the response he wants, he’ll repeat this routine until he realizes I’m not budging, at which point he climbs to the top of his cat tree and meows pitifully. When that fails to get a response, he paces around me. Then he tries head jumping again. Or head butting me. Or purring.

Sometimes, only sometimes, he’ll begin this song and dance at 03:30. When he does this…grrr… when he does this, I do my level best not to yell at him. For one thing, it wouldn’t do much good. For another, it would wake King Arthur, which would not bode well for anyone. And, lastly, it would kind of be like reinforcing his bad behavior.

It takes great patience and willpower to ignore begging kitty behavior. Mostly because some of it is rather adorable. Like the meowing. It’s so girly! And a little pathetic. But mostly girly. And he’s not at all girly. Plus, the leaping is really athletic. Irritating, but wildly athletic.

Sigh.

I love Fletch. He’s a nut. He’s a crazy, relentless, furry, adorable nut and I’m glad I’m his guardian.

(But he really deserves some Olympic level medals.)

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