Da Goddess

Wishing you a very happy New Year!

May 2020 be the year we all have good health, loving relationships with family and friends, personal growth, and the kind of prosperity that ensures your comfort, contentment, and sense of security. For the creative amongst us, may you find the well of inspiration deep and full.

Woo hoo! 2020, let’s do this!

May you all have a day full of love, laughter, joy, and a feeling of belonging.

If you’re feeling alone and blue, please know there are many who also feel this way. If you’re feeling overwhelmed, please reach out for help. 1-800-273-8255

Wishing everyone a very happy Thanksgiving!

I have much to be grateful for and I find myself adding to the list every few minutes. Just as I think I’ve reached the end, another thing pops into mind. I’m almost embarrassed by how many reasons I have to be thankful. But this is one of those times when you thank God for every single item on the list and hope you’re doing justice to the gifts you’ve been given.

Funny how gratitude can change your attitude.

I hope you all have a beautiful day.

Are you ready for Halloween? I am. And I don’t think Halloween can serve up anything worse than what I’ve been through this week. Yes, I’ve already had my scares. And, yes, I said scares. As in multiple scares.

Let’s start with the winds. And the fires. They’re here. All we can do is be prepared for evacuation at this point. I am totally prepared. Thankfully, after one particularly tense afternoon, I realized we were going to be okay. Others aren’t so lucky and my heart goes out to them.

Today’s humidity stands at 4%. FOUR PERCENT. That’s very, VERY dry. And the winds are alternating between calm and the Wicked Witch is coming for you and your little dog, too.

The winds cause the weathervane on my roof to turn. Unfortunately, when it does turn, it sounds like a ghost crying about how heavy its chains are.

Also, being that my home is about 90 years old, windows sometimes open randomly. Not so much a problem for the windows with screens, but the ones without are usually the ones that pop open. And they usually have the most giant spiders and giant spiderwebs. No bueno. I have enough spiders, thank you very much. I’ve learned to jam paper, cardboard, old gift cards, and everything else I can into the gaps in an attempt to keep them closed. Most stay shut. However, one, in particular, proves difficult. The one with the most giant spider and web. Needless to say, I have been known to wake suddenly and sit bolt upright when I have even the slightest suspicion it’s opened up again. I’m not sleeping well, obviously.

Despite all that, I’m better off than those who are in a fire’s path. I keep praying for firefighters to gain the upper hand on all the fires and let people return home…provided they still have one. Please say a prayer for them.

On to other things.

Then there was the other evening when I returned home after having dinner with my sisters and our mom. Normally, Fletch is waiting at the door. No Fletch. I called for him. Nothing. Panic set in. If he somehow got out, he wouldn’t stand a chance against the local strays or the coyotes that are frequent visitors in these parts. Then, in a burst of inspiration, I rushed to my closet and opened it to discover a VERY upset cat. He bolted out of the closet, practically knocking me over. He’s been known to sneak into closets and cupboards and pantries and just about anywhere he could possibly get closed in. I’m usually very careful about checking for him, shooing him out, and closing doors. I missed him sneaking in behind me as I prepared to leave this time. I was gone all of three hours. He wasn’t happy to have been stuck in the closet, but he was relieved to be let out.

Unfortunately, this was the one time Fletch really really really had to pee while trapped. After tearing apart just about everything stored on the floor, he chose to pee on the two worst things to pee on: a leather backpack (KA paid $5 for it, but it was immensely useful and a personal favorite of mine) and — oh, God, this one really hurts — my camera backpack, complete with three lenses and my old camera. The camera and lenses survived, though I lost a variety of ephemera I can’t replace. The important stuff survived and that’s what matters most.

Throwing out both bags made me want to cry. It was a ridiculous reaction. For one thing, both bags can be replaced (or, y’know, not) and all turned out okay gear-wise. Secondly, I hadn’t used either since moving. Whatever importance they held was strictly (weirdly) sentimental and didn’t warrant tears. Thirdly, Fletch did what he had to do. I can’t fault him for heeding nature’s call. Bodily functions are bodily functions. In fact, I’m kind of proud of him for not getting the urine all over the carpet. Quite thoughtful, if you ask me! Actually, I’m guessing nothing got on the carpet. Every time I’ve opened the closet, I take a significant breath and can’t smell anything.

Now, my new fright is having to find a replacement camera case. I’ve started my search and am overwhelmed. Do I want a rolling bag or a backpack or messenger bag or something else? Do I want a bag capable of carrying two camera bodies, five lenses, a flash, my laptop, and the other accessories necessary for a successful shoot? I don’t have a camera shop nearby where I can dig around and try bags on for size. (I miss you, Calumet!) So, I’m trying to sort through the plethora of options online and finding myself paralyzed by the prospect of making a choice.

After all this, I think I can manage whatever Halloween has in store for me. I have candy for my landlords’ daughter as well as any other kids that might show up. I doubt I’ll see anyone else, but I’m prepared nonetheless. I can always eat whatever’s left.

Saturday is Mojo’s birthday. It’s also the landlords’ daughter’s birthday. Mojo’s gifts were sent and a card is on the way. Little Miss Tiny (Fletch’s name for her) has a couple little, inexpensive presents to open because she’s quite honestly one of my favorite kids I’ve ever met. I can’t help but pick up a book or some other little item for her. Fletch adores her and that’s a ringing endorsement if ever there was one.

I got way off track here and it’s late. This is where the post ends. Except to say:

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Remember when the blogging community was thriving with great (or not) writing, fun & occasionally stupid memes, interaction with others, even bitter rivalries?

Much like television these days, with 500 channels and countless streaming options, blogging has become overwhelmed and drowned by other social media platforms. MySpace came and went (thank God). Google + or circle or whatever, also history. But Facebook and Twitter and Instagram and other sites seem to have drawn most bloggers away.

We’re scattered. Like large families who find themselves vast distances from each other, or maybe more like large herds of deer or other animals, the blogosphere bloomed and now has thinned.

I think one of the reasons so many people began to rely on other platforms is how commercialized or commoditized a lot of blogs became. It wasn’t so much ads on sidebars; it was more like people who had once told stories turned to writing paid reviews, or basically blogged solely for the purpose of income. It took a lot of the joy out of cruising blogs.

On Facebook, well, we could just connect on a realer level. Then Facebook started to “fix” what wasn’t broken, alienating users. You either loved the changes, hated the changes, or just rode them out because it was easier to keep track of family and friends on one site as opposed to going through dozens of websites. Twitter? You could build a variety of niche communities — or none — and cruise through for as long as you wanted. The brevity of tweets made for quick-ish reads and quick-ish replies.

Neither Facebook nor Twitter is perfect. Then again, neither was blogging when it was at its peak. But, at the very least, blogs were where so many people became friends, where people sometimes fell in love, where some found new careers, and/or where some discovered parts of themselves they’d lost or never even knew existed.

I suppose it’s inevitable that the blogosphere would collapse or implode implode or whatever you want to call it. Once bloggers abandoned realness for money, the blogosphere changed. It was as if someone plopped strip mall after strip mall between neighbors.

I’ve considered — more than once — just closing up shop. I mean, there are so few readers stopping by that it seems silly to keep going. However, while I’m not the most consistent blogger, I still find myself glad I have a place to write and post photos and interact with the few people who come by to check in with me. Y’all know who you are.

My domain name was up for renewal recently and I had to make a decision as to whether or not I should even bother. After some consideration, I decided to renew. Oddly enough, Go Daddy’s system decided I needed a two year renewal and I couldn’t get the system to let me renew for just one, so I’ll keep on for at least two more years. After that, who knows?

I’m sad so many of the people I met because of blogging have disappeared. I miss them. I miss what this community used to accomplish when called to action, whether in response to disaster or to raise money for military veterans and their families or raise money for breast cancer research. We were powerful once. As a community, we did some fantastic work and I miss that. But that’s over now and we all get to decide where we as individuals fit in or even if we want to fit in somewhere. Me? I’ll keep on keepin’ on until I run out of steam.

Seventeen fucking years. 17. SEVENTEEN! I’m astounded by how many years have slipped by.

A lot of shit has gone down since I first started this blog. The worst was last year, of course. But because of you, I made it through. Thank you.

I’m not going to say much more. Really just wanted to make a note of this blogiversary and then hobble back to bed.

Thanks, everyone! I love you.

In just about 12hrs, I’ll be loading up trucks with my little bit of furniture and clothing and heading south. My new home awaits and I’m excited/nervous about the whole thing.

I’m a bit worried about the cat. We had an emergency visit to the vet yesterday. He was lethargic and floppy, showing no interest in food, and just looking miserable. He perked up a bit as I was getting in the car, but then just settled in on my lap. Then he was super chill at the vet’s in the waiting room. Didn’t give a shit when barking dogs came in. He just stayed on his chair and looked at me with sad eyes.

When we finally saw the vet, he was less than happy. A thermometer up the old keister has never been his thing. Nor is someone trying to look into his mouth. Or when they put stuff in his ears. When they put stuff on his back? He’s not a fan. By the time they got around to jabbing his rear end with a needle, he’d definitely had enough.

Getting into the car to head home, he wrapped himself around my head. Belly completely covering my face and four sets of claws trying to hold on to the back of my skull.

He’s doing lots better today, but still having moments of blech-i-tude. So I have been cuddling with him as he wishes and pretty much watching him carefully in case he has any distress.

Which is why I’m nervous about the move with him. I’m worried it’ll be too stressful on his system. I’ll be watching him closely!

Other than that, I’m just excited about getting moved. Nervous, too. I keep thinking about the million things I still need to get. New bed. Groceries. Etc. Etc. I have a notebook with three pages of things I need, things I have to do. Address change, phone calls, transportation issues to solve, and more things I haven’t yet considered!

Nervous. Excited. Anxious. Thrilled. Trepidatious. Liberated. It’s enough to turn petrified dinosaur turds liquid.

And this is where we are tonight.

Back to packing and arranging my belongings. I find 30mins at a time is about all I can do. My breaks are spent with Fletch and TV.

Fingers crossed for tomorrow!

I had planned on my semi-regular 12 Days of Christmas music posts, but I ended up with more pain and such than I could handle, making me forget what day I should have started and which videos I was going to use. I’ll post something, just not 12 days of videos.

Twitter has been the easiest way to stay in touch with a few people and it’s easy to post occasionally, to keep a few brain cells functioning, to find some humor when I need it most. But there have also been a few tweets that made it difficult to keep the tears from flowing.

Harry Leslie Smith died November 28. I’d been following him for quite a while and was saddened to hear he was ill. At 95, I didn’t hold much hope for his recovery from pneumonia, especially after they went to chest and feeding tubes. As a nurse, I knew how bad it likely was. But, there was still a small bit of hope…a tiny flame that Harry would make it, that his son would be able to take his dad home and eventually get back on the road, visiting refugee camps, appearing at speaking engagements, and maybe finishing another book. I felt extremely invested because of my dad. I knew all too well the way Harry’s son, John’s heart was racing and breaking. I offered whatever words I thought could possibly help, though in that situation nothing ever really helps. And I went at the news that Harry had succumbed to his illness.

— * — I’m going to ask you now to Google Harry Leslie Smith so you can learn more about this man who went from sheer poverty to soldier to author to human rights advocate during his remarkable life. I cannot do just to his legacy here. Please Google him. rel=”noopener” target=”_blank”>Quick link to his Wikipedia page for those too stubborn to Google. I’ll wait here. — * —

You’re back! Okay. So, now you know a bit about the astounding man who didn’t let the last years of his life go slowly or easily. Harry chose to do something to help others. He spoke his mind and heart. What a beautiful way to live, right?

His son, John, is continuing to update Harry’s Twitter account and is planning to continue on with the work Harry was devoted to. He’ll be in San Diego soon and then Mexico so he can see for himself what’s happening with the refugees who’ve been held by our government for simply seeking asylum. What’s happening down there is a travesty and to know that John is following in his father’s footsteps is enough to make my heart burst. Vale, Harry Leslie Smith. And to John, best to you. I know how hard it is to keep looking ahead, but you are most definitely your father’s son and you are meant for a very purposeful life.

Now on to the next item that stopped me in my tracks, leaving me teary and red-eyed. This story about a friendship no one really saw coming and how one woman’s loss brought this friendship to light. For Lin Wang’s family, especially his daughter Shirley, I send my heartfelt condolences and I send my gratitude for sharing this story. There are always surprises in everyone’s lives, but there are some that really take one aback.

For everyone missing a loved one this season, I feel you. For me this is raw and unknown territory. Perhaps it is for you, too. I’m here. Leave a comment. Let’s talk.

Wishing each and every single one of you a very happy Thanksgiving! May you have blessings so numerous you lose count.

I’m so grateful to have made it through this rather trying year in one piece.

I’m grateful my sister has recovered from her stroke.

I’m grateful my mom is still with us.

I’m grateful for my beautiful children.

I’m grateful for my very sweet cat.

I’m grateful for my friends.

I’m grateful for my doctors.

I’m grateful I’m still alive.

I’m so grateful for so many things I can’t think of them all!

Happy Thanksgiving, my dear ones!

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.

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.

I just got off the phone with my friend. We haven’t seen each other in 18 months, but we stay in touch, keep up on what’s happening with each other. Still, not the same as spending time together as we normally would do. She called me the other day, left me a long message. Tonight I finally managed to remember to call her before it got to late. We were on the phone for over 90 minutes. Laughter, tears, the gamut, y’know?

My heart’s a little lighter because of her. I’m so grateful she allowed me to talk, so grateful she allowed me to listen.

“Friendship, friendship, just the perfect blendship.”

Lucy and Ethel, though we’re equally both, if that makes sense. But, without the destruction of dresses.

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?

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.